


Finding Stability

by Madmaiden



Series: Void Forged [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Peter Hale, Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Alternate Universe - Zombies, BAMF Stiles, M/M, Nogitsune Trauma, Pack Building, Post-Nogitsune Stiles Stilinski, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Spark Stiles Stilinski, Wilderness Survival, magical research, pack bonds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-12
Updated: 2020-10-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:28:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 29,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26427148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Madmaiden/pseuds/Madmaiden
Summary: They have an Alpha and a plan, but can they keep themselves together after all the tragedy?This is part two of a series. If you don't read part one you are going to be confused methinks.
Relationships: Peter Hale/Stiles Stilinski
Series: Void Forged [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1855402
Comments: 83
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm back and with a Stiles POV continuation! 
> 
> Unlike part one, I was not on any particular schedule to finish this so it ended up being much longer.  
> I'm at around 25k now and nearly finished, so no worries on if this will end up completed, I'm just not 100% sure how I want to break up the chapters yet.
> 
> I also spent an unhealthy amount of time planning and researching things, even went to my local Home Depot to see how many of certain items would realistically be in stock. (I have no idea why I wanted this level of realism, but here we are.) I made a map of the clearing and profiles for the pack, which I'll put at the end of this installation of the story since it'd be spoilers to put it first.

Stiles let his tense muscles relax against the new and strengthening growth jutting atop the stump of the Nemeton. After a long moment forcing the noise of the excited pack to fade away, his body sank into it’s familiar meditative state and focused on his newly formed pack bonds and the increasingly familiar guardian bond with the tree. All of his bonds shone brightly in his mind, much stronger now with an Alpha to anchor them all to the land and the magic of the territory. Stiles’ body relaxed further and tingled with now unfamiliar contentment. From the moment that the Alpha spark settled inside Peter, Stiles had felt more in control and centered than he had since the moment his father had taken his last breath. 

His magic thrummed with excitement at the development, providing him with some kind of intrinsic knowledge that his abilities had required a strong anchor to keep himself from the magical equivalent of becoming an omega. The revelation was jarring and intense and made Stiles feel like he should be more concerned with the finality of it all, but the longer Stiles focused on his bonds the more settled he became. It was as if something primal within him was finally sated and the tight ball of stress he’d been holding onto for the last couple of weeks had started uncoiling into something more manageable. 

As much as he wanted to feel concerned about the way his magic was making him feel about the pack, about _Alpha_ , Stiles couldn’t muster the energy to be concerned about the budding and frankly alarming connection forming between himself and the formerly dead hopefully ex-villain. 

(Considering the circumstances, Stiles had chosen to take ‘Zombiewolf’ out of his rotation of acceptable nicknames. He was sure he’d have some creative alternatives when he had the time, but alas, apocalypse.)

His mind drifted onto thoughts of the settlement and the various projects that were being planned and smiled serenely. Peter had been right, hearing everyone step forward with ideas for improvement had not only given him hope for the kind of civilization they would be able to build out here, but also reminded him that the burden of survival wasn’t resting entirely on his shoulders as their reluctant leader. 

They were going to be okay. He was going to be okay. He had the brilliant and frustratingly crafty Peter Hale on their side. He even appeared much more sane than Stiles had anticipated and now that he was undisputed Alpha with willing betas, Stiles was confident that manipulative dominance plays and violence against innocents would be minimal, if not completely non-existent. 

As if spurred on by his acceptance and trust in his Alpha, an intense rush of magic flowed through Stiles, solidifying his connection to the Nemeton. The tree was pleased to feel his presence, and it’s mood seemed light and almost playful as it niggled in the back of his mind and wrapped itself around his being affectionately. Stiles melted into the sensation of being connected to the land, the wards, and his magic while beginning the process of channeling his excess into the Nemeton and the territory.

Even with the amount of magic he’d expelled while eliminating threats at Eichen, Stiles had been feeling like his magic was moments from bursting. Ever since his Spark awakened in this very clearing, it seemed like the amounts of magic he produced were increasing every day. He had his theories as to why he was so immeasurably powerful and growing more and more by the day, but he had little evidence for such thoughts outside of a single throwaway comment made by Deaton the day before his death. 

_’...a Spark only grows through adversity, after all.’_

It had sparked a memory of an old story his mother used to tell. Of ancestors called dragons who were just powerful magic users with a preference for shapeshifting. How they bound themselves to the land and protected it with their very being. How their power could only grow when they overcame pain or danger. If such stories were true, Stiles could only imagine the power boost his experience with the Nogitsune had gained him. Never ending torture and a threat that went beyond something so petty as life and death. 

He sometimes still heard it’s words, whispered reverently in his ear, a mockery of love that shook him to his core. _’We will love our Spark, mate him and bind his soul to us for eternity.’_ Those whispered words of love had been more terrifying than any other thing that the creature had done to him; the warped, twisted, _genuine_ , affection more violent and cruel than any torture Stiles could have conceived. 

In those moments he’d felt what it had felt, not even being allowed the courtesy of his own disgust at the notion. He’d been forced to feel wrapped in the twisted possessiveness as if it was honor, as if he liked it. As if the notion was something divine as opposed to eternal torment. That more than any single other thing the creature had done to him was the source of his nightmares. 

(He would wake in a cold sweat, pining and mourning his lost potential mate. The first time it happened he’d nearly died from dehydration after vomiting for fourteen hours. No one dared speak of the things he’d said while in the throws of his delirium.) 

Stiles felt the Nemeton squeeze around his being and pull him from the direction of his thoughts. In this moment the magic held faint traces of coffee and gun oil, wrapping him in the hints of the life magic that was left behind by his fathers’ sacrifice. The first time he’d felt it, he’d almost fallen into a panic attack. It was the first time that the tree had made an effort to pass along any kind of distinct message to him, taking great efforts to relay that his father and brother had passed on peacefully and that while the traces left behind were genuine and real, they were nothing more than a magical echo. A manifestation of their love and dedication to protect what they had left behind.

Stiles didn’t allow himself to think about it too often. Any time he lost the ironclad grip he had on his own control, Stiles’ magic started to leak from him like faulty plumbing. Without an anchor he was at risk of leveling the entire city, likely more if his theories about the extent of his own magical potential were correct. He’d worked with the Nemeton for any alternative anchors he could find before relenting to it’s will to seek out Peter.

The damned tree was far too fond of Peter for Stiles’ liking, and while he completely understood that it held a much different value system than himself, he still found the whole thing a bit excessive. The Nemeton nearly salivated with want at the idea of having Peter as a non-feral Alpha of the territory. Something about his vicious protection as Talia’s enforcer and his systematic vengeance for his pack. 

The whole thing had unnerved Stiles at first, but after time he could accept where the tree was coming from. The world was vicious now and they needed strong leadership. Stiles had faith in the Nemeton--no doubt spurred on by the guardian bond and his newfound magical instincts-- and the Nemeton had faith in Peter. After Eina joined the group and assured everyone of his stability, Stiles really had no option other than to go and break Peter out of Eichen House. 

Now being bonded to a proper pack with an Alpha, Stiles should be able to channel some of the excess magical energy through the bonds to offset his overflow. Channeling the excess energy into the Nemeton was a great temporary solution, and something he’d keep doing on a regular basis, but without a pack he was having to channel daily and was still close to overflowing. 

As the pack bonds grew stronger, Stiles would be able to channel more energy into them and will in turn become more stable. Having an Alpha as an anchor will guarantee that Stiles won't become overcome by his magic and go feral. It also gave him a measure of checks and balances against Peter and his Alpha power. He could feel it in the intrinsic hierarchy of the pack bonds, he was of equal rank to the Alpha now and could step in without issue if he ever had to. 

Not that he had any doubt that he couldn’t overpower Peter, but Stiles was feeling confident in Peter’s potential leadership. He was ruthless and intelligent, and all of the things that Stiles had been worried about were proving to be non-issues the more time the two spent together. It was strange looking at the older man now and seeing the massive difference in his personality and appearance after that previously present hint of madness had gone from his eyes. 

It was honestly kind of freaking Stiles out. 

Peter was always objectively attractive. Even with his insanity, he had an appeal in that ‘sexy-serial-killer-like-dexter’ kind of way. It’d been easy for Stiles to ignore back in high school, as any thoughts about the man as anything other than a threat became impossible. Yet now looking at Peter was like looking at a completely different person. 

He was still in a lot of ways the same snarky, manipulative asshole he’s always been, but now there was a softness to Peter that Stiles was finding alarmingly attractive. Coupling that with the bond forming between them, and the newfound feelings were starting to get hard to ignore. Stiles had put Peter on the spot at the end of the dinner meeting, hoping in some ways that Peter would remind him of all his terrible qualities. Some annoying speech about how he was the Alpha now and whatever controlling bullshit came along with that nonsense. 

Instead, he was given that heartfelt and emotional speech about how they were all a team and he was happy to have them as a pack. It was _fucking traumatizing_ and Stiles couldn’t wait to run away to the Nemeton afterwards and promptly start making attempts at denial of the rush of pure want that had consumed him.

Stiles felt the Nemeton coil its magic around his own bond with Peter and hum excitedly. The tree was clearly invested in their relationship and Stiles could feel the encouragement that was being sent toward them both. It outright desired the two of them working together to run the territory, and it was unnerving while somehow also being very comforting. He knew the ancient sentient tree wasn’t being completely upfront about it’s long term plans, but Stiles kept himself from freaking out completely because he could feel the fact that it had their best interests in mind.

The Nemeton wanted a strong territory and for that territory to stay strong as the world fell apart around them. It needed nurturing to do that and was willing and excited to help them thrive in return. A strong pack would be able to keep it safe from those who would try to attack it, and thanks to the energy it had received from the sacrifices and Stiles himself, the protection wards would stay almost impossibly strong in exchange.

The tree gave Stiles the impression that the size of the wards could grow with the tree and packs power, and that they had a legitimately good chance of being able to build a stable society here. Stiles bought into the dream if only because there was nothing else left. Once they had a stable settlement here they would look into finding other survivors and growing the pack. He wondered if Peter was thinking along the same lines, if he had plans beyond their need for basic survival and infrastructure. He filed those questions away for later and instead focused on inquiring about growing food and ideal planting locations in the clearing. 

The tree seemed amused by the question (and blatant change of subject in the instinct based conversation they’d been having) and Stiles interpreted the following rush of intent as the tree assuring him that anywhere in the clearing would produce quality crops. He got the impression that it was something to do with the raw magic of this area and the configuration of the wards. That the wards themselves were almost sentient and would adapt over time to their needs. He also got the impression that the wards were bound to the pack as well as the Nemeton, and would also grow in strength alongside them. Either way, it was clear that Mrs. Loretta would be able to plant wherever she saw fit and Stiles had another million things to theorize and consider. As was typical of any lengthy conversation with ancient all knowing magics that for some reason had taken a particular liking to him.

Stiles felt the Nemeton start growing ever so slightly at his back and knew that the tree had absorbed all the energy that it would be able to from him now. He didn’t really understand how it worked, but he knew that the tree itself could only handle so much at once and it had little to do with his ability to provide. He likened it to how one had to eat or drink slowly after being starved or they could severely hurt themselves. 

The Nemeton had been in bad shape for centuries and had to pace itself with its own recovery, lest it cause more damage. The tree seemed pleased at his deduction and their session and with a final nudge of encouragement, it seemed to push a wave of his magic out through his pack bonds before the connection between the two of them was severed. Stiles emerged from his meditative state with a jolt, a loud gasp, and a new ability. 

More time had passed than he’d expected. It was fully dark outside now, the clearing illuminated by only the fire at center camp and the brightness of the moon and stars overhead. There was still movement over by the tents which wasn’t much of a surprise for Stiles, everyone seemed to be filled with a sense of motivation after the earlier meeting and would likely be up later than normal this evening. 

He didn’t make it halfway back to the tents before he was nearly tackled by Leah, “Stiles! I’m glad you’re back. The wolves all got super weird.” She frowned and tucked her long brown hair behind her left ear but he didn’t think there was any alarm in her voice. 

“What happened?” Stiles asked, keeping his tone and body language calm as the two of them made their way back to the campfire. The twins were new to the supernatural and Stiles never wanted to give them a reason to be alarmed.

“About two minutes ago, all of their eyes flashed at once and they got really excited about something. Then Peter stood up and suggested they go on a run around the area and they all seemed super into it.” She shrugged, “Then they all took off like a bat out of hell. It was kind of hilarious.” 

“Oh.” Stiles paused in his walking for a moment to consider if their strange behavior was of his doing. “That’s probably my fault. Now that we have an Alpha I can feel the pack bonds and I sent them some of my magic energy to the pack like I do with the Nemeton.” 

Leah laughed a laugh that was both highly amused and resigned, “This magic stuff is crazy, dude.” 

“How are you handling all that, by the way? Accepting it all can be rough.” Stiles stopped walking and placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to comfort. Leah and Ryan had only joined the group four days ago, they’d been fleeing their college campus in Los Angeles when their car broke down just outside of Beacon Hills like some kind of horror movie. 

His group had just finished raiding the police station for weapons and long range walkies when they happened to run into the twins being swarmed by a group of zombies. It was during that fight that they’d gotten their first glimpse of a zombie werewolf. Some of the images from that fight still haunted Stiles, so he couldn’t imagine what these two normal college students were thinking. Ever since it’s been non stop supernatural reveals for the two humans and Stiles had to wonder how neither of them have had a freak out yet.

“I’m handling it fine, I guess. It helps that you’re so upfront and honest about everything, and take the time to explain it all. A bunch of eye candy werewolves and a little magic nerd are pretty easy to handle when compared to a Romero movie.” She pulled Stiles in for an awkward hug before releasing him quickly and turning back toward the approaching fire, “I guess I’m just resigned to the weirdness. And I’m not really that interested in being a werewolf, but if I fell and broke my leg or something I’d probably end up wanting the bite over months of recovery.” 

Stiles nodded, “That’s perfectly reasonable, actually. I wouldn’t say that if we still had hospitals and stuff, but I understand not wanting to risk being vulnerable when the world is like this.” 

“You get me.” Lean nudged playfully, “I’m going to get back to my research. I found a book about plumbing so I don't need the computers for a while.” 

“I guess plumbing is a good place to start for the showers.” Stiles nodded. 

“Oh, actually, when I was talking to Peter a bit ago I got an idea for re-routing the well water from the Hale House out here to the clearing. I actually think it’s possible, as long as the water pump back at the house is a nice quality one. Even if it isn’t we may be able to replace it and then our possibilities are endless.” 

“Oh wow, so you’d be able to get us running water out here?” Stiles hadn’t imagined that something like that was doable. 

“Yep. Definitely to one building, possibly to a small group of them. Peter mentioned wanting a large central pack house with a kitchen and a lounge area large enough for everyone to be able to congregate on rainy days. So at the very least the pack house would have running water.” 

“Something like that would take forever to build though, right?” Stiles questioned, surely permanent structures like that were months away. He’d been assuming that they’d be lucky to have everyone out of tents comfortably by winter. Leah’s grin was knowing and mischievous. 

“Maybe not as far off as you think. We didn’t stop bouncing ideas around until the wolves all ran off a few minutes ago. You missed hours of refinement and some very interesting ideas and revelations. But I don’t want to ruin the surprise, Stiles, see you later.” She bounced off toward her tent without giving him a chance to respond. 

A part of him was irritated that he missed out on so much planning, but the other part was beyond relieved. This was just another reason he needed Peter around. Keeping up with every aspect of their survival had been squarely on his shoulders since before the group moved out here. Knowing that Peter was already comfortable taking some of that responsibility off his shoulders and was wanting to surprise Stiles with the progress was enough to keep him from poking around in search of answers. 

Instead Stiles would focus his attention on his own projects. He’d already fully researched and acquired all the needed ingredients for the tree removal ritual. The only thing missing there was ensuring that all the trees that needed uprooting had a rune carved in them and waiting until the full moon. That meant his attention could be focused solely on Lydia. 

Armed with that knowledge, Stiles headed toward the makeshift medical tent to check on his goddess. When he stepped into the opened tent, Melissa was laying on her blow up mattress humming softly to herself while reading a book on plants by lantern light. She looked up and gave him a soft and knowing grin before going right back to it. He didn’t comment on the pile of tissues by her bed the same as she didn’t comment on his regularly red-rimmed eyes. They were both coping in their own ways and weren’t ready to seek comfort in others yet. But there was an unspoken knowledge that they would be there for each other when the time came.

Stiles knelt down on the other side of the tent where Lydia was laying sedated on her bedroll. Even knocked unconscious Stiles could tell that she was suffering. Her eyebrows were pinched as if she was having a nightmare and she was covered in a thin layer of sweat. He reached down and gently moved some stray hairs out of her face and reached for the washcloth in a bowl of cool water at her bedside and wrung it out. 

“This would all be much easier if you were awake, Lydia.” He whispered to her as he gently wiped clean her clammy skin. “All the books that have been remotely helpful are in Latin and you know how hard I’ve always relied on you for those translations, it’s a complete mess without you, a total travesty. The earth itself will take a breath of relief when you’re back to keep us idiots in line...I have half of the runes needed to create the charm that will block your powers, and I’ve already picked out the most gorgeous necklace to carve them into. I know you’ll love it, it matches your eyes and while understated, has an exotic uniqueness that just screams Lydia Martin.” 

Stiles finished wiping the sweat from the redhead and kissed her gently on the forehead. His eyes traced her face in an almost desperately searching fashion, “I’m close, goddess, I promise.”

Stiles held back the torrent of emotions that washed over him and stood up from where he’d been kneeling. “Night Melissa. I love you.” 

“I love you too. Take care, Stiles.” Her tone was knowing and loaded and Stiles had to rush back toward center camp to avoid the emotions she’d made him feel at the gesture. Almost parental, a message that she still saw him as a son. That he wasn’t alone and he still had a parent left that cared for his well being. A reminder to herself that she still had a son to care for. That she couldn’t give up. 

On the way back to his tent Stiles filled his water canteen from the small water tank in the fridge. Their little kitchen area was working fine for now, but Stiles couldn’t stop the itching unease at their appliances being stored in such a flimsy shelter. He would make that his next project, Stiles figured, and made a small mental note to himself. 

He was tempted to get straight into his research on runes and charms, but he’d only given himself a rudimentary wash after his trip to Eichen house earlier and figured it would be a good idea to go down to the river and bathe before settling in for the night. There was a good chance that he wasn’t the only one who needed to feel clean after the rough day.

The wolves especially would want to get clean after their run and it would be best if everyone went together. Stiles mentally tugged on his bond to Peter to urge the wolves back toward the clearing and hoped that he got his intent across to the Alpha. He felt a tug of acknowledgement and grinned at himself for his newly acquired skill. His bonds to the pack were still new to him, but he could feel that they would be back shortly. Stiles settled himself into the chair next to Mrs. Loretta and the campfire with the intent to relax a bit while he waited on their return.

“It’s a beautiful evening.” The elder woman said without looking up from her knitting, something knowing in her tone that Stiles couldn’t place. “You can really feel the magic in the air.”

“You’re right, this clearing is saturated in magic. I’m betting it’ll seep into everything we build here eventually, as long as we nurture it well. You can build the garden wherever you’d like, by the way, all the ground in the clearing is highly fertile.” 

“Wonderful.” The woman hummed softly before resuming her work without further comment and letting a comfortable silence stretch between them.

Stiles allowed himself this time to relax and just exist without any obligations. He’d been going non stop for days now preparing for the assault on Eichen House and now that it was over he couldn’t bring himself to dive immediately into his research. He resolved to allow himself this night to relax, get himself clean, curl up in his pajamas, and get a good night's sleep with the knowledge that tomorrow he could dedicate his entire day to saving Lydia. He smiled and let his gaze drift upward toward the starry sky before fading into an almost sleep while listening to the soft clicking of knitting needles and the crackling of the dying campfire. 

Stiles jolted in his chair when he heard the sounds of the pack returning from their run. He’d have found the noise more alarming if it wasn’t for feeling their approach through the bonds almost immediately after being startled. Stiles yawned and stood from his chair with a stretch just as Peter came to a stop in front of him with a relaxed and pleased expression on his face.

“Hello Stiles.” He purred and Stiles promptly ignored how the sound of Peters’ voice sent chills down his spine. He really needed to keep these urges from developing further, or else Peter would never in a million years let him live it down.

“Hey creeper, now that you all are done prancing around in the woods, any of you want to go with me to the river to clean off?” Peter rolled his eyes at the snark but still agreed along with the rest of the wolves who all looked equally calm and pleased after their run. 

“Shall we see if everyone wants to head up there together?” Peter questioned with a lilt that was interpreted as rhetorical because Mason and Liam turned toward the tents to go collect the various human pack members who may want to come along. 

Peter didn’t stop looking at Stiles, an obvious question on his face that he was clearly unsure that he had the right to ask. Stiles saved him from having to ask, if only to stop Peter looking at him with such earnest caution. “So I’m guessing you guys felt that?” 

“It was like a huge rush of strength and energy. The power is still there but more subdued than it was at first, it came from you?” It was obvious that Peter already knew the answer to his question and was asking more as a means to get an explanation of the reason as opposed to the origin. 

“Yep, the stronger the pack bonds get, the more I can send to you all. It’s going to help a lot. I’ve been overflowing and having control slips.” Stiles said nonchalantly as if it hadn’t been the very big deal that it was. It was obvious that Peter wasn’t buying it, but was willing to play along.

“Aiden mentioned that you’ve been channeling more often and for longer as the days have gone by. I’m guessing that’s why?” Stiles had a quick moment where he almost resisted answering the question. As if a part of him was still reluctant to fully trust Peter with information about his power and any weaknesses. He had to actively shake the feeling off and hoped that Peter didn’t notice his hesitation. There were no outward signs that he had, but Stiles knew the man saw more than anyone else would.

“Yeah, now that I’m anchored to an Alpha. I feel much more at ease than I did this morning. Less like I could explode and take out the entire west coast if I slipped for even a second.” Stiles trailed off at the shocked look that crossed Peters face. “What man? I’m not going to kill us all, okay? It’s fine, now, I had it handled.”

“I’m your magical anchor?” Peter’s voice went breathless and Stiles couldn’t figure out what the big deal was. He watched as the Alpha closed his eyes and examined his own bonds, not able to completely hide the second he’d found theirs and inhaled sharply. When he spoke again his voice was low, almost raspy even as he attempted to play it cool. “That’s a permanent bond, Stiles, do you understand what that means?” 

Unfortunately, Stiles saw through Peters’ attempts to downplay his reaction and Stiles did not, in fact, know what it meant. Nor did he even fully realise what he’d done, he’d simply followed along with the Nemetons urgings and, sure, the tree was weird but-- He felt a wave of panic wash over him and mentally shoved it down with extreme prejudice. Stiles would deal with all his emotions at some undisclosed future date when he didn’t have too much shit to deal with already. He took a deep breath and locked eyes with the wolf, trying to act unaffected, as he waved off the tension with his hand, “It’s no big deal, we’ll talk about it later.”

Peter nodded but eyed him knowingly the entire time. Stiles never regretted agreeing to share a tent with Peter more than this moment. If there was anyone left alive and conscious on this planet who could see past his bullshit, it was Peter Hale. He sighed and looked around to see if the group was about ready to head out. Symbolically running away from the tension of the conversation and the warring feelings of _dread_ and _acceptance_ at the seriousness of the connection the two had formed.

Like a good distraction, Leah was piling towels into Aidens open arms like a pack mule all the while babbling animatedly about the different soaps she had put in the bag. “And they’re all natural, so they won't contaminate the water, which is important but what do we do when we run out of this stuff? What is soap even made of? It’s crazy how all these little things that I’ve never thought of before have become so important.” 

“The Mountain Lilac flower can be ground down into a soap.“ Mason called from where he was walking up to join the group. He got a chorus of questioning looks and chuckles from the assorted onlookers and he blushed deeply, “I heard it on some nature documentary in school and it stuck with me.” 

“Someone remember to let Mrs. Loretta know so that we can grow some.” Peter interjected, giving Mason a reassuring pat on the shoulder that caused the younger wolf to visibly relax and almost start preening. “Everyone ready to head out?” 

There was a round of affirmation and the small group headed toward the river up past the northeast section of the clearing. As they made the near twenty minute walk, the wolves talked about what they’d seen on their run. Apparently, they’d done a full circuit about a quarter mile outside the radius of the clearing and found only faint traces of zombies and plenty of wildlife. No hints of any humans or other supernaturals, but it made sense that any sane humans would keep clear of forests; Too many dangerous things could be lurking within.

Stiles almost moaned aloud when he’d finally gotten himself clean. Washing away the blood, sweat, and dirt of the last two days was almost a religious experience. His pleased babbling has earned him a loud round of laughter and lewd remarks from Corey and Mason who’d both ended their mini-rants by calling him a tease. The large group took their time swimming and playing around before heading back to the clearing. 

The group felt much closer after the bonding at the river and spent the whole walk back continuing with the lighthearted and pleasant atmosphere. When they’d returned the humans huddled around the dwindling campfire to warm up from the chill while the wolves went about final preparations for bedtime. Stiles' plans for a warming session were interrupted by the piercing sounds of Lydia screaming the moment that they crossed the wards, both scaring the shit out of everyone and nearly causing Stiles a heart attack as he raced to her tent to assist Melissa. 

It took them a solid twenty minutes to get her sedated and back to sleep, and by the time Stiles was finished he was exhausted and emotionally drained. He never wanted to see Lydia like that again and as he exited Melissa's tent with his tear stained eyes he resolved to do just that. At least the wards had kept the sound of her screams isolated to the clearing, if they were able to dampen the scream like that then he had to believe that being underneath them was lessening her suffering at least a bit.

Stiles yawned once more as he pulled back the flap to his shared tent and froze in place. Peter had taken all the blankets from his side and added them to his own pile, effectively making Peters’ entire room of the tent one large bed and he was sitting frozen with a pillow like he’d just been caught with his hands in a cookie jar. Stiles didn’t say anything and crossed over to his side to throw on his pajamas.They were soft and warm and comfortable and Stiles only wore them inside and when he was clean. They were his comfort clothes and he had a feeling he would need them for this entire situation. 

“Before you say anything, I have a perfectly logical explanation.” Peter said smoothly as he placed the pillow in the pile and stood.

Stiles let the silence ring between them as he pulled on his red hoodie and stretched his body long and deep. He followed that by cracking his back and crossing into the center room, stopping about halfway to where Peter was standing and looking at Stiles like a paragon of innocence. Stiles kept his face neutral but his voice betrayed his borderline irritation and hopefully not his other confusing reactions. “Let’s hear it.” 

“There is no way those three baby wolves aren’t in this tent within the next few hours. They have a brand new Alpha and fresh pack bonds so instinct will pull them close. Also, I am a brand new Alpha who has just been released from isolation before getting pumped full of your magic, adding to those overwhelming instincts, then there's the fact that my strongest pack bond is to you. It’s really best to just go ahead and prepare for the inevitable, what did you call them, puppy pile?” 

The fact that it was a totally logical explanation and that it did make perfect sense only managed to make Stiles furious. He huffed, stomped past Peter, and dutifully collapsed right in the center of the blanket pile. After a few seconds of squirming, he settled into a comfortable position and relaxed against the extra padding. Only then did he dare to look back up at the Alpha who was watching him with an expression that was both smug and weirdly intense. 

“Well, come on, then.” Stiles grumbled up at Peter, “I concede, cut the lights and get down here so I can go to sleep. We should aim to wake up right at dawn so we have the most daylight to work with tomorrow.” 

Peter stripped down until he was wearing nothing but a pair of basketball shorts that Stiles absently wondered as to the origin of. Most of the pack's clothes were being kept in various vehicles down at the Hale House, so chances were that one of the others had taken Peter to get himself something to wear. Stiles really should have thought of bringing him some stuff, but he’d been a bit distracted with everything else on his plate. 

Stiles turned away so that he didn’t risk Peter noticing the way he’d gaped at the wolf's stomach. It honestly wasn’t fair that a man his age was so unbelievably good looking, some Hale ancestors must have sold their soul to the devil for the looks that ran in that family. 

Within a minute, Peter was pressed flush against his back and pulled Stiles’ tight against his chest. Stiles let himself be moved into Peter’s ideal position and allowed himself to relax into the gentle scenting that followed. He tensed for a moment as Peter pressed his nose into the crease of his neck and took a deep inhale, but when the action didn’t further escalate Stiles allowed himself to fall into a restful sleep and resolutely ignored how completely right he felt laying here with his Alpha.

A part of him registered, about an hour later, when the young wolves filtered into their tent and curled up with Stiles and their new Alpha. The three filing in and gently scenting Stiles and Peter each while they climbed under the blanket and pressed up against the two. Even Aiden ended up joining when his shift ended, simply slipping into the spot that Corey had left vacated when he left to start his own shift on watch with Ryan. The group curled tightly into each other for the entire evening, most of them feeling the most safe and getting the best sleep they had since the world ended.


	2. Thank the Hipsters

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The wolves go out on a raid while Stiles tries his best to take care of Lydia

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Am back (:
> 
> Giving you chapter two early, because I found some issues while editing 3 that may take some time to fix. Meaning it may be a week or two before I have it out and ready to go.

Stiles woke to Danny standing at the entrance of the tent with a cup of coffee and a shit eating grin on his face. Peter was already up, along with Mason and Liam, leaving Corey and Aiden who’d stayed up on watch curled into each other in a deep slumber and pressed against his back. Stiles grumbled and rolled out of the nest, shooting Danny a look on his way back to his side of the tent to get dressed for the day. 

Danny waited patiently, amusement shining on his face the entire time Stiles got himself clothed. He slipped his boots back on and exited the tent, earning a pat on the shoulder and Danny’s cup of coffee in his hands. Stiles sipped the heavenly liquid and groaned in pleasure at the realization that this wasn’t the instant brew he’d grown accustomed to. Someone in the camp had gone through the trouble of brewing an honest to god cup of coffee and it was giving Stiles life.

As if finally sensing cognitive awareness stirring in Stiles, Danny started filling him in. “Peter’s been up for hours with Mason and Liam down at the Hale house. They’ve been condensing all the supplies and packing each car up tight before parking them all closely to create as much space as possible for parking.”

“Mhm.” Stiles mumbled, still shaking off the early morning haze and lumbering zombie-like toward the seats by the morning fire. Danny laughed and continued his briefing. 

“We all voted and agreed to let you sleep in a bit. The last few days have been rough on you and you looked so peaceful curled up with the puppies no one had the heart to ruin it.” Stiles scoffed and Danny nudged him playfully, “ As soon as they’re done up at the house, Peter plans on waking up Corey and Aiden to get ready for the raid.” 

Stiles perked up at mention of the raid and gulped down the rest of the coffee as he slumped into the nearest empty chair. “Still doing the tractor supply today?” 

“Not likely. They’re going to start with home depot and any hardware store they come across first. There are some things they may or may not have in stock that could be game changers for multiple different projects we have going.”

“Hmm, makes sense.” Stiles nodded along. A raid on the home depot would definitely be a game changer for the settlement. He hadn’t really thought about all the different items in the store that would make their lives easier.

“Sure does. Peter is sure they'll have at least one of those huge plastic storage sheds for sale, and if it needs assembled it could easily be done in a day and then we could have some proper buildings.” Danny seemed to be holding something back, but Stiles decided not to question it. Danny wasn’t the type to keep things close to the chest unless he had a good reason. 

“Oh yeah, I bet they have a ton of those solar powered string lights too. Like the ones we used for Lyds bonfire last fall. We’d be able to get so much more done if there was adequate lighting at night.” 

“Absolutely, and using those would take the strain off the generators and the solar farm when it’s completed. Also, I’m pretty sure that home depot will sell solar power kits with all the stuff that we need to start. And things like chicken coops, easy to assemble fencing for livestock and the garden. That’s without mentioning all the small stuff like wood and nails, basic tools, and seeds.”

“Smart. Did Mrs. Loretta pick a place for her garden yet?” Stiles questioned at the mention of seeds while still processing the sheer volume of supplies that the wolves could be carting into the clearing by the end of the day.

“She did. And boy is that woman ruthless. She gave Peter the address for a neighbor of hers who has this greenhouse that she likes. The level of detail she gave for how to go about stealing that thing without damaging it was way too well thought out to have been something that she just came up with. I think Peter is going to try to steal it for her this week only because of how tenacious she is, even if they wouldn’t be able to get it to the clearing until the road is finished.”

Stiles chuckled at the mental image, Mrs. Loretta had been a terror in the neighborhood and he didn't imagine something as trivial as an apocalypse could temper her. He also couldn’t deny how valuable having her gardening expertise was, and the potential for a greenhouse was something he hadn’t even begun considering. “So what’s the plan for this morning then?” 

“I think most of the projects are on a temporary hold until we know if some of the ideas we had last night were doable. All that hinges on what Peter is able to find for us at the hardware store. You and Mrs. Loretta are really the only ones who will be able to make much progress until they all get back. So, I guess all of us puny humans are at your disposal.” Danny grinned while leaning against Stiles from his chair. Stiles leaned back against the weight and took a moment to zone out into the fire and process everything he’d just learned. 

“Alright, I think Eina would probably be the best bet for helping me out with Lydia. I have a feeling she either already speaks Latin or has a working grasp of it. I’ll probably come get her later, when I have a better idea of what I’m doing. The rest of you should split your time between whatever you can do for your own projects, helping Mrs. Loretta with the garden, and confirming that every tree that needs a rune for the ritual, has one. 

“Anyone can carve them and they’re pretty simple so I trust you all to manage your own time. As soon as all the wolves are up and about I’m going to pop an adderall or two, lock myself in my tent with my books, and hopefully not come out until I have a solution for the banshee issue.” 

“Need me to deliver you lunch?” Danny questioned. 

“Honestly that would be really helpful. Thanks Danny.” 

The two chit chatted while Stiles scarfed down a quick breakfast and then Danny ran off to start his work for the day. After he’d finished and cleaned up, Stiles went back to his tent to brush his teeth before heading to Melissas’ tent to check on Lydia. He entered the space to find it empty, Melissa likely off helping Mrs. Loretta and the others with getting the garden ready for planting. 

Much like the night before, Stiles knelt down next to her bedroll and brushed away the hair sweat-stuck to her forehead. She was looking a bit less gray than she had the night before and Stiles was hoping that it was a sign that being under the wards was dampening the flood of death rushing into her and making things easier.

The barrier was meant to protect those beneath it from harm and Lydia was absolutely being harmed by her powers so the logic was sound. It was also the same principal he was using for the charm that he was crafting. He was going to take a strong barrier against death and integrate it with a sealing rune for her powers and a powerful protection rune for her mind. Creating something like that was proving to be difficult, finding the right runes and getting them to work together was a much more daunting process than he’d first anticipated, but Stiles was making steady progress. 

Once he had the runes created, he would just have to ritually activate them and then put the necklace on Lydia. Depending on how much he had to modify the original runes to get them to work together, activating the charm could end up taking an insane amount of energy from him though. One full day should be enough time to recover his power for the tree removal ritual no matter how much he ended up using, which meant that if he didn’t manage to get the charm done by mid-afternoon tomorrow he would have to wait until after the moon to help her.

“That just won't do.” Stiles promised,stood up, and promptly left the tent. 

When Stiles returned to his tent, he found that Aiden and Corey had already gotten up and headed off to do whatever it was they would be doing before their raid today. Stiles zipped the door closed and moved to the makeshift desk he had set up in the center room. Taking the time to gather all the books and notes he’d already made, Stiles slumped into his chair and started skimming it over while he popped an adderall and waited for it to kick in. 

Not twenty minutes later, the boy fell into a routine with his research. He had the perfect rune to use as a barrier against death and it was versatile enough that it should alter well. The struggle was with the suppression rune. There were endless varieties of them and they tended to be fairly rigid and unalterable. Suppression was typically used to hurt those under its influence, so finding one with some freedom to it was starting to seem impossible. 

After a few hours of working on the suppression rune, Stiles decided to take a break and find the right protection rune to pull it all together. Like with the suppression runes, there were many varieties of protection, but unlike them protection runes were very malleable. It only took an hour to find the perfect protection rune for the intent Stiles wanted the charm to have. 

It was a barrier protection that could be focused to a certain part of the body. It could also be set to use a specific energy source to power it, so Stiles decided to pivot his plan away from the suppression rune to find a way to simply channel Lydia’s powers in a less damaging way. Hours upon hours of skimming different energy transfer, barrier, anchoring, and diversion runes were interrupted by the door of the tent being unzipped to reveal Ryan with a bowl of food and a filled water bottle. 

“Hey Stiles,” The boy spoke softly yet pinned Stiles with intense eye contact. 

“Hey. Lunch time already?” 

“Well past, actually. Danny was worried that you were going to starve.” Ryan approached and sat the bowl and water bottle on the table before shooting Stiles a soft grin. “You’re working hard.” 

“I’m so worried about her.” Stiles' voice cracked and he avoided eye contact. “You’ll understand when you meet her at full health. That woman is a hurricane and seeing her like this is really jarring.” 

Ryan rounded the table and patted Stiles affectionately on the head. He was a very quiet and shy man, but Stiles had a feeling that there was much more to him under the surface. “I know you’ll figure it out, just like how you did when your magic was going out of control.” 

Stiles perked up in his seat and stared pointedly at Ryan while he spoke, even though it was obvious the question wasn’t really for him. “It can't really be that simple, can it?”

Ryan laughed, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. But before you research it, eat your food. We’re expecting the wolves back in the next few hours and they seemed really worried about you and your research binges.” 

“Ok, yeah, I’ll eat it.” Stiles said but it was obvious that he was a million miles away. He was lost in trying to re-evaluate the way he imagined Lydias’ powers worked. If he thought of them more like his own magic instead of the wolves it would be possible to use a channeling rune along with the protection and the barrier against death. He’d have to use the protection rune as the base and set it up to use her banshee powers as an energy source. 

That would weaken her powers enough that with the protection against death and the ability to channel excess banshee energy into the pack bonds she may be able to live a somewhat normal life. Especially under the protection of the wards. Things might still get overwhelming when outside of them, but in theory these runes would work fairly well. Much better than one would probably expect from a completely untrained magic user.

He plowed through the soup he’d been given all the while mentally arranging the runes into the proper arrangement and calculating the ingredients needed to activate and bind the charm as needed. The entire time, Ryan quietly observed him, not looking in the least bit bothered by the silence that hung in the air. 

When Stiles finished his meal, Ryan reached for it without a word and exited the tent. It was sweet and kind of threw him off at the same time. Stiles had always been the caretaker in his relationships with others, so having this group of people who were as busy trying to support him as they were the others was confusing to him. It almost made him uncomfortable. 

Stiles shook off the feeling and decided that he was pleased that Ryan and Danny had been worried enough to make sure that he had lunch. That was the sane person's way of interpreting the interaction and Stiles refused to let his weird repressed emotions let him think otherwise. Even after Ryan had left, Stiles continued his little break with some long sips on his water and a quick stretch and walk around the walkable areas of the tent. 

When Stiles wasn’t able to settle his mind while pacing the small space of the tent, he exited and decided to walk around the clearing for a bit, go to the bathroom, and check on progress for the garden and the road. After finding a nice spot on the outskirts of the wards to relieve himself, Stiles headed straight toward the spot where the road was to be placed only to find Leah and Ryan with a can of spray paint and a ruler bickering.

“I don’t want to wait until the wolves get back and I know that we can get this done in no time.” Leah stomped her foot at her brother with a petulance reserved only for siblings. Stiles couldn’t hear the response and the two stopped as he approached. “Oh hey Stiles, how’s the magic stuff going?” 

“I think I figured out all the pieces to make the charm work. Now I just need to figure out how they need to be arranged and what components it's going to take. It's honestly just a lot of mentally picturing things and seeing how they feel for now.” 

“Does that mean you have a little time?” Ryan questioned with no lack of hope in his voice. Stiles nodded and braced himself to get dragged into whatever it was the two had been arguing about. 

“Great! I want to go ahead and mark the place where the tunnel will need to be dug for the plumbing.” She held up the ruler and the spray paint as if the two objects would be the answer to any and all follow up questions. Stiles pinched the bridge of his nose and pointedly looked at Ryan. 

“She got into my adderall stash again, didn’t she?”

“Hey!” Leah complained at the same time Ryan chimed in with, “She’s as high as a kite.” 

“I may be a little...energetic currently, but my plan is sound, Stiles.” Leah accentuated her point with a very adult stomping of her foot and the two men exchanged a look in response. “We’re already marking off the exact lines of the road, there is no reason not to mark a straight line for the plumbing too. Those tunnels will need to be in a perfectly straight line from the house to the clearing, so there could be trees a bit outside of the original area we anticipated that need uprooting. Tell me you agree!” 

Stiles looked between the two twins to try and figure out what the issue was. Stiles didn’t know much about plumbing, but even with his limited knowledge he could understand what she was getting at. Instead of making a decision with only half of the problem, Stiles asked Ryan, “What’s your issue with her plan?” 

“I just didn’t think that the two of us should be off in the woods outside the wards alone. We’ll both have to stay pretty focused on the work so there will be no one to look out for threats--”

“I don’t want to bother anyone! They’re all busy with the garden. We’ll be safe for an hour.” 

“--and my sister disagrees.” 

“Oh, the only issue is that you guys need someone on lookout?” The two nodded and Stiles relented to the easy solution. He needed a little time for all the new information he’d absorbed to settle before he moved on to the next part, so spending an hour or so doing something menial like this was just what the doctor ordered. “I’ll go with you. Just give me a few minutes to check with the garden team and grab a weapon.” 

Leah looked like she’d been given early Christmas presents and Ryan simply let out a small exhale of relief. They exchanged a few more words before Stiles jogged back toward center camp to check up on the others and grabbed his trusty baseball bat from the tent being used for storage. 

The storage room was disorganized and missing many items that were likely being used on the raid, so Stiles made quick work of finding the modified baseball bat and slinging it over his shoulder. None of the wolves would have been able to use it as he’d infused it with mountain ash, wolfsbane, salt, and iron. The object had become his favored weapon in this new world, and Stiles’ magic had only made it more dangerous.

When Stiles approached the area designated for the garden, he couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the scene before him. Mrs. Loretta was leaning against a large storage bin barking orders at Parrish and Melissa with the kind of authority only the elderly seemed to be able to wield, and the two younger adults were miserably at her mercy. The two were covered in a sheen of sweat from the mid-afternoon sun and Stiles ducked away before inevitably getting roped into helping out alongside them. 

On his way back to the twins, Stiles noticed Danny and Eina walking the empty space of the clearing with clipboards pointing out space and mapping the area. Since the two were working on getting electricity to the clearing, Stiles assumed whatever they were doing was related to that process and decided not to intrude on them.

The twins bickered the entire walk back to the Hale house and Stiles followed along quietly while altering and arranging runes and materials in his head. After pulling a notebook out of her bag and skimming notes for a few moments, Leah was able to find the main water line and begin the process of marking the location for the tunnel. As promised, the whole process took little longer than an hour and the three were back at the clearing in time to join the other humans who were taking a break from the hard labor. They’d only found an additional three trees that would need uprooted and had promptly marked them with the proper rune before moving on. 

Stiles made himself comfortable in a chair next to Parrish who was chugging water out of a bottle like he’d been dying of thirst. Danny and Eina were sitting in a pair of chairs pointed toward the Nemeton and talking in hushed tones over their notes while Mrs. Loretta discussed fence placement with Melissa. He closed his eyes and let the soft chatter wash over him. A gentle breeze rustled the trees as Stiles’ mind drifted closer and closer to a meditative state and he started feeling the gentle pulses of magic in the air. 

It wasn’t as intense as the state he entered when channeling his magic at the Nemeton, but it was as if the moment of stillness unlocked his own ability to sense the magic in the air. The entire clearing was saturated with it, a protective blanket covering all the inhabitants with an almost sentience controlled by the Nemeton. 

Sometimes when Stiles’ mind was clear like this or when he was in the process of drifting into sleep he would catch a hint of Scott or his father's scent almost as if they’d just walked past him. He got the same sensation from time to time when entering or exiting the wards and every single time it would almost catapult him into misery. It was Scott that he felt at this moment and it almost pulled him out of his relaxation when he noticed.

He’d had no time to process the deaths of his family and knew he would eventually have to. Up until now he’d been able to fully distract himself with taking care of the camp, but ever since getting Peter out yesterday and getting a solid plan together with the group he found himself with too much time to think. 

He’d been attempting to distract himself with getting Lydia healthy, but at this current moment there was nothing left to research. He needed to get a good mental picture of the rune he needed to create before he could move forward, but every array he’s envisioned so far pinged as incorrect to his magical instincts. 

He was sure that he was on the right track though. Finding a way to anchor Lydia in the pack just like he had done himself and using the leftover energy to channel into the protection rune will work in theory, but he was missing a vital component. He didn’t know of any runes that could anchor a banshee to a pack and it would be impossible to do it with just her natural powers like he did. A banshee didn’t need a magical anchor like a Spark did, so they’d have to find some kind of ritual to make it work. The solution hit him like a ton of bricks and it was so obnoxiously obvious he wanted to punch himself in the face for not thinking of it immediately.

Stiles shot out of his chair like it was on fire and bolted over to the spot where Eina and Danny were sitting. “Hey, Eina, got a question for you.” 

The two startled a bit at his sudden appearance, Eina looking more amused while Danny looked concerned at the crazed look in Stiles' eyes. After the two had come down from their surprise, Eina noticed the look Danny was giving and an understanding flashed across her expression. “I’ll help as much as I can, whats up?” 

“Do you know if a banshee can become an emissary?” 

Eina contemplated for a few moments before she beamed at him. “Oh my, aren’t you clever.” 

Danny raised an eyebrow in question, but before Stiles could elaborate Eina continued. “I believe it’s possible. You want to use the emissary bond to channel and dampen her powers so that they’re easier to block out, right?” 

Stiles startled at how quickly she’d figured out his plan. He knew the woman was smart and had spent years studying the supernatural, but for some reason he’d been unable to trust in her. It wasn’t exactly that he was against the research that Eichen House had been doing, they weren’t nearly as corrupt and evil as some of their associated organizations had been. Still, he simply couldn’t keep himself from being irked about her presence in the camp. He seriously needed to get over it though, the wards wouldn’t have let her in if she wasn’t, at least for now, on their side. “Yeah, that’s the general idea.” 

“I think it could work. What runes were you planning on using?” Her face lit up with excitement that Stiles was having trouble getting a read on. It was like she was really pleased that he was reaching out to her. As if for some reason his reaching out to her right now was in some way important to her, but not in any malicious way. He tried to keep his confusion out of his tone and expression as he replied. 

“Well, I have a three rune array planned. I’ve got protection, a barrier against death, and a passive channeling rune picked out for the charm. It was like my magic knew they could work together perfectly but I was missing something. As soon as I realized she would need to be anchored to the pack same as me, everything kind of fell into place.” 

“What about a five rune array?” Eina questioned with a raised eyebrow and Stiles paused and started mumbling in thought for a moment. He didn’t appear to come to any kind of conclusion. 

“What were you thinking of adding?” Stiles sounded cautious and yet beyond curious. Danny recognized the forcibly restrained flurry of questions just below the surface of Stiles skin and had to hold back a laugh. No way was he going to distract these two if they got going. Stiles joked about how Leah and Peter shouldn’t be allowed to team up, but most of the camp were worried about what this duo would accomplish with joined forces. 

“Situational binding and energy regulation.” She stated plainly and Stiles gaped. 

“I have no idea what either of those are.” He admitted after a moment. 

“Hmm. Both rune types are typically used in Irish magic communities, which incidentally, is where the banshee originates. Using runes of the same magical origins should increase the usefulness. I have some notes in my tent, one moment.” 

Eina bolted out of her seat and toward her tent leaving Stiles and Danny behind looking mildly baffled. Danny finally broke the silence. “That was the most excited I’ve ever seen her.” 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah, pretty sure she thinks you hate her.” 

“I should probably do something about that.” Stiles winced, feeling guilty all the sudden. “Her whole thing just gives me the willies.” 

“I get it. Supernatural researchers in an underground black site prison are very…” 

“Nazi Germany.” Stiles finished, feeling guilty even as he said it. “I mean, it’s the same thing in a way. Doing the whole ‘human’ experimentation thing. I mean, at least they weren’t snatching ‘weres of the street, but, yeah, the whole thing gives me the creeps.”

“I get it.” Danny sighed, “But she isn’t a bad person. And we are giving Peter Hale a clean slate, so.” 

“So I need to get over it.” Stiles resigned. 

“Yeah, probably.” Danny gave Stiles a pat on the head and stood up. “I needed a break from our city planning anyway. Stiles, take Eina and see if the two of you can set Lydia to rights today. I miss our goddess.” Danny winked and headed toward the assembled others and started chatting away about dinner plans and Eina returned looking all too excited to hang out with Stiles with a stack of books in her hands that was large enough he was worried that she’d topple over. 

He huffed reluctant amusement and waved her along over to him. After relieving her of about half of her cargo, the two headed back toward his tent. He wasn’t going to be a jerk and turn down help from the very intelligent researcher who had spent the last few years at least studying the supernatural. It would be stupid and it was childish of him to have avoided reaching out to her for help first thing this morning when he’d gotten the idea and mentioned it to Danny. 

The two settled in at his desk and went over the runes he’d picked while he explained the materials he felt were right for the ritual. She’d agreed with all of his choices and then took the time to inventory all the ingredients Stiles had requisitioned from Deatons clinic after the man had fallen. The supply was all being kept in a series of watertight storage containers along with his books and some sentimental items from his old house.

Most of the stuff from the clinic was unlabeled and he didn’t know a single use for and a large chunk of it he didn’t even recognize, but Stiles decided that wiping the clinic clean was the smart choice. He wasn’t one for ignoring the possibility of someone else coming along and stumbling on a cache of magical items and ingredients that they could potentially use against the pack and he was sure that eventually all of this stuff would come in handy. 

Eina almost squealed after cracking open one of the small wooden boxes within and gaped at the contents with a dumbfounded expression. Stiles hummed in question and waited the solid thirteen seconds it took her to pull herself away from whatever it was. “Stiles,” She whispered reverently. “Stiles this is true asphodel.”

“I have no idea what that is.” He had to hold his tone back from being sarcastic and deadpan, it wasn’t fair to be rude to her when she was trying to help and he couldn’t let his worries and stress start alienating people. He really needed to get his shit together, but especially so when it came to Eina. He coughed quietly to mask any lingering unpleasantness in his tone and continued. “Is it helpful?”

“The realm of Hades is also known as the asphodel fields. It’s literally a plant from the underworld, there is no stronger barrier against death. I hadn’t considered bringing it up because the chances of having some…” She trailed off and continued to stare at the plant for a moment. 

“So it can help Lyds?” Stiles locked onto her with an intensity that reeled her back from her reverence and back to the real world. She straightened under his intense scrutiny and cleared her throat. 

“Absolutely, it can. Best case scenario without this stuff, we’d have been able to make life livable for her while under the wards. With this stuff? She’ll be like normal under the wards and only uncomfortable outside them. As long as she is far enough away from the actual act of death, the lingering death in the air should be completely manageable for her.” 

Stiles beamed at the woman. “Well, let's get started then.”

“Yes, lets.” Eina replied as she lowered herself gracefully into the chair next to him and flipped open the top book in the stack she’d brought along.

* * *

As soon as the sun set tonight and the pale flowers of the true asphodel began to glow with the power of shadow and the underworld, Stiles and Eina would be able to complete the ritual for Lydia’s charm. It’d taken the two of them working together all of three hours to complete the project, and when Stiles pictured the runes and the components they would use, his magic pinged happily and proudly within him in success. Even the warm humming of his bond with the Nemeton was pleased, glowing with pride in it’s guardian. 

With both of his projects ready to be completed and only waiting for the right moment to perform his rituals, Stiles found himself feeling a bit listless. He didn’t like not having anything to do, it left him too open to think about the last few weeks of his life and the trauma he’d faced. One month ago he’d been happy, about to graduate with his closest friends and pack, making plans for college and travel. 

A flood of grief washed over him so intense that Stiles gasped for breath. It’d felt as if a tidal wave had crashed over him and was now violently retching his body back and forth beneath the surface of his skin. His heart started to pound in his ears and he’d have thought that he was having a panic attack if he wasn’t so well acquainted with them already. His magic rushed to the surface and speckled the air with the taste of electricity and his vision started to blink in and out. He questioned for a moment if he was going to lose consciousness even though his body didn’t seem to have reacted outwardly at all.

It ended as quickly as it began and Stiles was left standing in place as if nothing had happened. Even those who’d been near him hadn’t noticed anything amiss. He closed his eyes and focused inward on his bonds. The Nemeton was only mildly concerned, coiled around his being as it always was and sending him gentle waves of comfort and family. 

The pack bonds with the wolves were still a jumbled mess in his mind. He could feel them each individually and distinguish them from each other, but outside of stray strong feelings from Peter, Stiles could hardly distinguish the loud and ever changing emotional input he received from the pack. 

He assumed that they were too new and a bit too weak still for him to differentiate. With the Nemeton and in some cases Peter, the bonds were strong and vibrant in his mind, powerful enough that they were almost a constant presence humming in his subconscious. The emotions from the Nemeton that managed to come through weren’t very complex and rumbled into his mind like a gentle fog. The emotions of regular people were ever changing and dynamic and Stiles had no experience with having bonds like that. Until the day he’d accidentally bonded to the Nemeton and become it’s guardian, Stiles had never felt a bond like the wolves did, and until the day before never had them with creatures that had complex emotions. 

In a word, focusing too hard on his bonds to the pack was a little overwhelming. They’d all come at once, were tightly wound (as he assumed pack should be), and close together, so when Stiles would focus on them it usually ended in a bit of a headache. He focused on them anyway, assuming the wolves may have felt his distress from his attack, but it didn’t appear that they had felt anything at all. Instead, the general feeling he got off the bonds was a sense of pride and victory. He figured that meant the raid had gone well and figured they’d be back fairly soon. 

It did strike him as odd that such an intense rush of feelings and pain had gone unnoticed. Had it all been in his head? The only one who seemed to notice anything had happened with him was the Nemeton, and the tree didn’t appear too worried about it. With a shrug, Stiles chose to compartmentalize this incident along with everything else and try to find something to keep himself busy.

Stiles spent the next hour and a half running errands around the clearing. It started with helping Mrs. Loretta, Parrish, and Melissa with moving things around for the garden and setting up a small area for the tools and supplies. The older woman was viciously amused with her ability to boss everyone around when it came to the garden and didn’t seem to mind showing it. After he’d finished with that he headed back to his tent to organize all the papers and ingredients that he and Eina had pulled out during their research. 

He then pulled out the blankets from the pack nest on Peter’s side of the tent to air out before arranging them back into a comfortable configuration for the coming night. As much as Stiles wanted to pretend he hated sleeping with the pack last night, the reality was that he’d likely gotten the best sleep he had since the night Theo crawled out of hell. He hadn’t felt safe in a long time and something about being pinned under an Alpha werewolf as vicious as Peter had allowed Stiles a chance to relax and get the deep sleep that he’d been missing lately. 

Gods he was so fucked up in the head. 

Instead of dwelling on those truths, Stiles decided that it would be best to get a tent up for Lydia to sleep in. Chances were that she wouldn’t want to be alone, but Stiles wanted to be sure that the banshee had a space of her own once she woke up. He found most of the humans near the fire, getting things set up for a large feast for dinner tonight in preparation of celebrating a successful raid and Lydia’s recovery. They didn’t seem to need much input from Stiles, so instead of interrupting he nudged Parrish and motioned for him to follow. 

The two made the short trip back to the Hale house and though Parrish didn’t ask any questions, Stiles spent the entire walk explaining what he wanted to do and why. The hellhound mostly just nodded along while the younger male rambled.

“...so I put some extra tents and supplies in the jeep before I parked it up here for good. It’s not that I don’t think Roscoe is apocalypse ready, mind you, I just don’t want to risk her taking any more damage than needed.”

“That’s reasonable.” Parrish noted as they breached the treeline into the clearing for the house. “Maybe one day you can figure out how to get it to run on magic. That’s probably a thing, right?” 

Stiles beamed and bounced to the spot where he’d parked the blue jeep. “If it is a thing I will absolutely figure out how to do it. Could you imagine? Roscoe: Magical Zombie Killer Tank. She’d be shooting fireballs out of her headlights and flying around the preserve.” 

Jordan couldn’t hold back his horror at the mental picture. “I regret everything.” 

Stiles cackled, “That’s fair.” And popped open the side door of the jeep to peer at the contents. The jeep was packed beyond full of basic survival supplies. 

(Parrish knew that Stiles had gone full end times preparation from the moment his contacts had notified him of a potential rogue necromancer merging with a Nemeton, almost as if he could see where everything was headed. 

Maybe he had, Jordan considered while eyeing Stiles assessingly. The boy had shown up on his doorstep in the middle of the night covered in blood and tears and urged him to pack up his entire life and follow him into the preserve with little explanation. Sometimes Jordan wondered why he’d shown such immediate faith in the younger male in that moment, but in the end knew that he’d simply been following his gut. 

By that time almost all of the McCall pack was dead. The only ones left behind had been Stiles and the three underage ‘wolves Scott had sidelined when things started getting properly dangerous in town and Lydia who’d been once more shoved into Eichen House when her powers went haywire. Stiles had ranted and raved and fought to keep her with the pack but had been overruled and ignored, as usual it seemed. 

Parrish wondered from time to time what Stiles was feeling, between being left out of the plans during the eleventh hour of their battle with Theo and the fact that him being kept on the sidelines likely cost him the life of his father and best friend on top of all the other trauma they’d all suffered. He couldn’t be as okay as he was pretending to be, but Parrish wasn’t sure it was his place to say anything. 

He also didn’t think that they could afford for Stiles to have a breakdown right now. The boy was obviously their leader and the only thing keeping the camp running as smoothly as it had. Parrish didn’t want to think about what would have happened to him if Stiles hadn’t come running to collect them all and taken them to a safe place before everything got too chaotic and assumed that the other surviving adults probably felt the same. Stiles was their rock and although it was clear that he was slowly crumbling, they just couldn’t risk allowing him to break. 

He shook himself from his reverie as Stiles finished pulling the last large bag out of his jeep and added it to the pile on the ground with a thump. There was a fairly large single room tent still in its original packaging and several suitcases and bags from expensive brands. Stiles hummed, pleased, before slinging a few of them over his shoulder and starting back toward the camp. On the way back, Stiles shook himself from his quiet contemplation and back to his normal talkative self as if nothing had happened. 

Jordan kept his mouth shut and promised himself that he'd be there for Stiles. The Sheriff had been like a hero to him, after all, and the man's son was just as impressive.) 

It was a quick process setting up a tent for Lydia and arranging her few belongings inside to make it feel homey. Stiles had broken into the banshees house and gotten some things for her as soon as he started planning for her break out and hoped that the familiar items would help soothe her recovery. He’d placed her tent in the center of the empty space between his own tent and the medical tent, deciding that just in case it would be best for her to have easy access to both the people she was most familiar with and the assistance that Melissa could offer. 

Stiles interior decorating was interrupted by howls of victory as the wolves started to file into the clearing for the Hale house. Stiles could feel them getting closer and the joy that they seemed to be emanating through the bonds. He finished up with some last minute details in Lydia’s tent before zipping it closed, loading up some water bottles, and making his way back to the house with the other humans. 

He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t five full sized u haul trucks all parked in a semicircle and seemingly packed to the brim with supplies. Peter was directing the wolves as they started unloading the contents of the leading two trucks and the group was so in sync that it was almost startling at first glance. There was something about them now that Stiles couldn’t quite put his finger on. The younger wolves were moving with a confidence that he hadn’t seen in them before and they all appeared more at ease and settled with themselves than Stiles had seen them since they’d turned. 

He’d always known that in a lot of ways Scott hadn’t been the kind of Alpha that was ever going to be able to properly satisfy the inner wolf of his pack members. Though he was a good man and a good leader, Scott was notoriously out of touch with his own instincts and that lack of comfort with himself translated to every one of his betas. The old pack always seemed to be trying to stifle their werewolf instincts, trying and fighting as much as they could to keep their humanity. While he could understand the idea, Stiles had always known that down that road lay disaster.

Peter was a born wolf, so his acceptance of his own inner wolf was a given and it seemed to lend confidence to the younger pack members with little prompting. The betas seemed to move differently now, more like a predator and with more purpose than before. They seemed completely comfortable flashing eyes at each other and guiding their actions with their noses and other senses above more traditionally human ways. It was fascinating to notice and while Stiles wasn’t sure if he would be able to explain it to another person if he was asked, it was obvious. 

The twins perched up on the front steps of the house while Stiles and Parrish approached to pass out water to the group. He was almost immediately tackled by Liam who was probably the most relaxed that Stiles had ever seen him. Stiles fell to the ground with a grunt while he was aggressively scented by the young wolf. “Stiles we did so good!” 

“Proud of you,” Stiles gave the boy a head pat and returned the scenting by nuzzling back before shoving the teenager off of him and standing back up. Liam at least had the decency to look sheepish for knocking him to the ground and he looked so adorable Stiles couldn’t even pretend to be mad about it for longer than a second and gave a reassuring grin. One glance told Stiles that Mason and Corey were barely holding themselves back from tackling him as well, so Stiles made a quick motion and accepted the hugs with another grunt as the air was squeezed out of his lungs. “Come on guys, control the wolfy strength a bit more so the Stiles doesn’t get squished.” 

Parrish had started helping Aiden with unloading and Peter was just watching Stiles being attacked by the babywolves with an amused glint in his eyes. Stiles rolled his eyes and started prying teenagers off of him while he approached Peter and allowed himself to be scented. It took far more focus and concentration that he’d like to admit to keep his reaction to Peter pressed against his neck under wraps, and Stiles worried from the smug expression on the Alpha’s face that he wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped. 

“So I hear the raid went well?” Stiles questioned, still slightly breathless from the intimate contact.

“Quite well,” Peter hummed while still tracing circles lightly with his fingers against the side of his neck, “and how did things progress back at camp?” 

“Great!” Stiles beamed while pulling himself away from Peters’ touch with as much subtlety as he could manage. “Eina and I will be ready to complete the ritual for Lydia’s charm at nightfall.” 

The fact that she would have to become the emissary to the pack was left unsaid for now, Stiles would pull Peter aside and confirm that the Alpha was alright with the development when things have settled down a bit. Peter seemed to notice that there was something being unsaid and he questioned Stiles with a raised eyebrow. Stiles flushed deeply under the attention and mumbled, “We’ll talk details in a bit.” 

Peter nodded and turned back toward the trucks, “We found more than I’d bothered hoping for. Did you know that you can buy construction kits for storage buildings like garages, sheds and barns? Home Depot has pre-packaged kits with the building supplies all included and with step by step instructions for construction.” 

“Really, like ikea but for whole buildings?” Stiles peered around the Alpha to look at the items that were being pulled from the trucks out into the clearing. Most of the items being prioritized seemed to be large pallets that were labeled and piled with building supplies and pre-cut wood wrapped in a sturdy looking plastic. The implication started to sink in. “We’ll have actual buildings.” He said in awe. 

“We found seven kits for wooden buildings of varying size, and we have kits for eight plastic storage sheds. We’ll have to put the plastic ones together before I know if they’ll be livable or if we’ll use them just for storage, but either way they are valuable and about the size of a large bedroom.” 

“And the pallets are small enough to take up to the clearing before the road is finished.” Stiles realized in a whisper. 

“Exactly. We’re going to put the plastic ones together first, they seem like they’ll be fairly straight forward. Then the building teams are going to start on the pack house.” Peter placed a hand on the small of Stiles’ back and ushered him forward to a grouping of four larger pallets and pointed down at the picture. 

It was a large, two story, barn style storage building with a decent sized, covered front porch. The boxing noted that the building didn’t come with a floor, but Stiles was sure that Peter already had a solution for that. The inside of the building was listed as 40ft by 18ft and with the two stories it came out to about 1800sq ft of space. The upstairs had three separate rooms while the downstairs was mostly one large space with a small shed type room that had a door from both inside and outside of the building. It looked like it would make a perfect bathroom. 

“This is amazing,” Stiles whispered reverently while tracing the picture with disbelieving fingers. The packaging advertised easy construction and steel reinforcement for long term use. If they really worked hard, it was completely possible that the building could be finished in a few days. The possibility left Stiles struck dumb and staring blankly while the wolves continued to unpack more and more pallets into the area for transport into the clearing. 

Now all the city planning made sense. Danny and Eina had obviously known that Peter was likely to bring them back some kind of permanent structures and had been plotting out their ideal locations. Peter allowed Stiles to process all the new information that was playing out in the minute expressions crossing his face for another moment or two before he pressed on and ushered Stiles toward another one of the trucks and pulled the rear door upward to reveal it’s contents.

“It gets better, darling,” He purred while motioning at the variety of boxes stacked inside. A quick scan of the packaging indicated the contents and his heart nearly exploded. “I suppose we should all thank the moon that off the grid living and the eco-friendly lifestyle was becoming so trendy before the world ended.”

Stiles made some kind of garbled noise that had to have been interpreted as agreement, because Peter continued while pointing at the varied boxes. “There were enough solar power kits and batteries to light up an entire suburb I think. And I hadn’t considered composting toilets at all until we saw the boxes in the sustainable living section of the store.” 

“There was a sustainable living section in the home depot,” Stiles repeated in his haze and Peter laughed. 

“I was surprised as well. We emptied the entire department into this truck. Some of it even came with handy pamphlets.” Peter grabbed a rather thick one titled ‘Doing your part: A Beginners guide to an off the grid lifestyle’ and Stiles let out a nearly hysterical laugh of relief. 

“Holy shit, we’re really going to be okay out here.” 

“We really are.” Peter draped his arm over Stiles shoulder and pulled him close. Stiles allowed himself to fall into the action, taking comfort in the massive difference one raid had made and the newfound vision for what their survival was going to be. 

Stiles had been thinking that they’d be stuck out here living like the middle ages for a long time. That they’d be in tents or squatting in RVs while boiling water to make sure it was drinkable and cooking over open fire. That was obviously not going to be the case, he’d been thinking too small, too much like a teenager who’d been planning for the zombie apocalypse like it was an old movie. Now looking at the reality of what their settlement could be, Stiles let himself imagine pack nights cuddled on a couch watching movies to stay out of the rain. A real life. Something similar enough to the world that they left behind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll link to a notebook with all the buildings and items found on the raid when this installment is complete.


	3. Makin' Magic

By the time the group had hauled all the supplies they’d deemed priority up to the clearing, every single one of them was exhausted. Mrs. Loretta and Eina had finished their dinner feast soon after, and no one other than Peter had energy for more than devouring their meals silently. Their Alpha was laid back in his chair with his bowl balanced in his left hand while he took notes of some kind in a thick looking journal in his lap. No one commented on the waves of happy Alpha energy that was pulsing off him, but Stiles was sure that even the humans could feel it by the small grins on their faces.

Once dinner was finished and being cleaned up, it was well past six and Stiles knew he needed to talk to Peter about Lydia as his emissary. Once night fell he’d need to be focused on his ritual, so Stiles pulled the Alpha away from assisting with the assembly of one of the larger plastic storage sheds for the generator and kitchen supplies to come along with him on a walk. 

They headed toward the northeast edge of the clearing and as soon as they were out of earshot for the wolves, Stiles turned toward the Alpha and started to ramble, “So, true asphodel has to be worked under moonlight, so as soon as the sun finishes setting I’ll be able to perform the ritual for Lydia’s charm. I’ve already carved the runes into the necklace and gathered all the ingredients… there’s just one more thing that has to happen for it to work and I honestly don't know how you’re going to feel about it.” 

“Are you going to set me on fire again?” Peter asked with an amused lilt to his voice, but Stiles didn’t miss the genuine concern bubbling below his expression. 

“What? Hell no, man, what kind of psychopath would ever ask you to go through something like that again. Jesus christ-- No. Just no. Never would that ever be an option ever.” Stiles shivered at the thought and Peter just tilted his head back and laughed. 

“Well that’s very good to know, then. I can’t think of anything else that would have you reeking of anxiety like this though.” He sniffed pointedly and Stiles huffed. 

“It’s just, you’re the Alpha and I wasn’t sure how you’d react to hearing that all of this hinges on you accepting Lydia as your emissary?” Stiles cringed and his voice went up an octave at the end. Peter visibly relaxed in response, clearly not as concerned as Stiles had been expecting. 

“That’s all?” Peter mused, “I’m fine with it, but are you sure Lydia will be? I’ll have to bite her to form the bond and as I recall we don’t have the best history with that.” 

“I’ll, uhh, I’ll deal with her wrath on that front.” Stiles was still nervous about how Lydia would react to that particular detail, but the bond wasn’t permanent and it could be broken if she couldn’t handle it. He was about eighty percent sure that she wouldn’t disembowel him for going through with this to save her, and would reverse it immediately if she asked him to. “Not gonna lie, most of my anxiety about all this is how she’ll react. But she’s smart and she’ll understand why we had to do it once it’s explained to her.” 

“She is a brilliant one.” Peter nodded, “Will you need anything else for the ritual?” 

“Nope, you’re all free to work on whatever it is you’d like to get done. I’ll probably be pretty distracted and worn down tomorrow while I deal with Lyds and regenerate my magic. I have a feeling this spell is going to take a lot out of me.”

“I see that you got her a tent set up already, are there any other preparations you’d like us to make so that things are a bit easier on her?” Peter questioned while wrapping an arm around Stiles and leading him back toward the camp. Stiles leaned into the touch and made a pleased humming sound.

“Nope, I think she’ll probably pass right out after I get the charm on her. She’d been sedated, but I hardly think she’s been actually getting rest with all that death passing through her.” 

“Hmm, you’re probably right about that.” Peter steered the two of them back toward their tent and Stiles followed along mumbling random tidbits about his day while Peter exchanged details about the camp's future. 

Once they stepped inside, Stiles noticed that Peter had laid out a large map of the county and had the leather bound planner that Peter had been taking notes in during dinner. Peter slid into the chair that was in front of the planner and motioned for Stiles to sit next to him. Stiles obeyed and leaned in close to read what had been written inside. Peter had noted who’d worked the night watch the previous night and had made random notations about the details of some of the various projects and some projected timelines for completion. 

There was also a list of the building kits they’d retrieved with an order of construction and a general plan for what they’d be used for. He wanted the pack house up first, and apparently had spoken with both the twins and Danny about connecting it to water and electricity. Everyone seemed to have something that they were contributing to the construction and had discussed their potential timelines for the completion. 

Stiles was sure that there would be some hiccups along the way. The estimated timeline of nine days until the house was fully built with water and electricity was probably a bit generous, but with everyone working together it was definitely possible. Even Mrs. Loretta and Melissa would be doing their part with painting and laying down the flooring. 

“I’m going to be helping with all this.” Stiles commanded as if he was worried that he was going to be left out. He’d never admit it out loud, but he was maybe-possibly-probably just a little bit bitter about having been kept more on the fringes of Scott's pack previously. Peter looked at him like he was reading his mind and he hated it. 

“Of course, sweetheart, if we’re going to be building a pack house, we should all be doing it together. I assumed you’d be busy with caring for Lydia and magical burnout until at least early evening the day after the full moon, so I don’t have anything planned for you until the day after that.” 

“You had plans for me, did you, creeper?” Stiles joked.

“Oh I have many plans for you Stiles,” Peter purred lewdly and Stiles couldn’t help himself from nearly choking on air at the implication. His entire body went hot with embarrassment and what he absolutely refused to acknowledge as arousal. He forcibly thought about _literally anything else_ to calm down. 

“I walked right into that.” Stiles murmured. 

“That you did.” Peter chuckled, “I’d like it if you would help Leah with the plumbing. We found a really high quality solar powered water pump during the raid, but even with that, I’m concerned that routing the plumbing all the way out here is going to be a strain for more than two or three buildings. 

“I was hoping you may be able to find a way to ward the pump and maybe even some of the plumbing to help with water flow? Eina may have implied that the two of you work very well in that department and I’m sure Lydia would enjoy having something to help with as well.” Stiles frowned at the almost sheepish tone and expression coming from the wolf. It had been bizarre seeing Peter behave like an even remotely sane person, but a person who was also considerate of his feelings and trying his best to make everyone feel involved? 

_Fucking traumatizing._ Stiles was tempted to count his fingers, but had long since accepted the fact that nothing in the world made any damn sense anymore. He’d already accepted that Peter had been feral and Eichen House had actually helped heal him, but seeing it for himself was proving to be very difficult to accept. 

“I--uh--yeah, definitely. Ward the plumbing, of course, the world is crazy, why not? And the best part is that I’m sure we can make it work. I felt the spring underground when I was connected to the Nemeton once, I’d bet you anything that’s where the water is coming from. I could probably even channel some of my magic directly down there. Good plan, Alpha.” Stiles muttered, still distracted. It wasn’t until Peter's eyes flashed that he realized what he’d said and blushed. “Um.” 

Peter cleared his throat to stop his quiet pleased growling and his eyes returned to their natural blue color. “I also wanted to talk about the raid a bit.” 

“How is it out there?” Stiles sobered and secretly thanked Peter for distracting them both from the tension that was building. Stiles was absolutely not ready to deal with whatever the hell these feelings were about and he was sure that Peter felt the same. They were both still riding the high from Peter becoming Alpha, and Stiles was sure that all of this would blow over in a week or so. 

“It’s still not too bad. About a third of the city still has electricity and while there are a fair amount of zombies out there, we didn’t run into any groups larger than ten. Liam thought he caught the sound of a heartbeat on the way back through the town, so there’s a chance that there are some people still left alive in Beacon Hills.” Stiles straightened in his seat and focused as Peter continued, “We didn’t stop because we had too many valuable supplies on us and we were tired out from all the packing, but how do you feel about us going back out there to find them?” 

“Depends on what you do when you find them.” Stiles' heart suddenly began pounding and he was feeling very conflicted. Their settlement was new, fairly fragile. They had a huge cache of weapons, but bullets were limited and almost none of them were real fighters. Zombies were one thing, but Parrish, Aiden, Peter, and himself were the only ones who’d be capable of killing another human if they became a threat. But what if they were just innocent people who were struggling to survive? 

“That depends on what kind of people they are.” Peter's expression went cold. “I’m not going to lie to you and pretend I will not slaughter those humans if they are a threat to us. I’m not like Scott, I can’t--” 

“Peter, shut up.” Stiles cut in and Peter looked indignant, “I’m right there with you. I was literally sitting here calculating who in this camp would be willing to take a life if it came to that. I don’t know if we’re ready to take the risk, but I’m also not willing to let potential additions to our little settlement just die out there. So, yeah, I think we should go.”

“We?” 

“Yep, just you and me. Hopefully we come back with some new friends, but no one is better prepared if they aren’t.” Stiles couldn’t read the expression on Peter’s face, but he placed it somewhere around befuddled. He laughed. “What’s with that face?” 

Peter seemed to have shaken off whatever he’d been feeling and grinned. “Nothing, dear, would you like to go hunting tomorrow afternoon?” 

“Such a creep.” Stiles laughed.

* * *

There was an energy of anticipation over the entire clearing as Stiles and Eina carted all the required supplies for the ritual in a little red wagon toward the Nemeton. Stiles had tried to explain to everyone that there wouldn’t be much to see, but most of the wolves and all of the humans were clamoring along behind him to witness the magic being performed.

“They’re making me want to throw in some kind of light show or something.” Stiles mumbled to Eina as they started drawing the ritual circles around the Nemeton in preparation. Eina giggled at his comment while she placed materials in their required positionings in the circle.

“Maybe you should put on a little show.” Eina hummed, “It’s one thing to be told that you have magic and that the magic is protecting us, but some of the humans can’t really understand what that means. The twins hadn’t even known magic was real until a week ago, and yet they’re being told to put their faith in some wards that they can barely feel and don’t have to experience to fully comprehend.” 

“So you’re pretty much saying, put on a pretty light show to assure the humans that magic is really real?” Stiles stated the comment sarcastically, but as he spoke he realized that it was actually a good point. Leah, Ryan, Jamie, and even Mrs. Loretta put a lot of faith in Stiles’ magic to keep them safe, but have really no understanding or viable proof that magic is real. 

It’s one thing to believe in tangible evidence, like with the ‘wolves, but it was another altogether to believe in the intangible idea of his magical wards. Especially when they as humans could barely feel the energy as they passed through them. It honestly gave him a bit more perspective for how much blind faith they’d put in him to keep them safe. Maybe some reassurance wouldn’t hurt. Eina seemed to have noticed him realizing this and gave a smug smile.

“Lightshow it is.” Stiles mumbled. 

It took about forty minutes for Stiles and Eina to get everything set up for the ritual. As soon as it was all ready, Stiles grabbed Peter and headed over to Melissa’s tent to complete the emissary bond while the other members of the pack hauled folding chairs out to the Nemeton so they’d be able to watch. Stiles wanted to wait until the last possible moment to create the bond with Lydia, just in case the power boost from the emissary bond woke her up. He didn’t want her to have to suffer for long. 

The process of forming the bond was pretty straightforward. Peter would have to give Lydia a bite on her shoulder to symbolize his trust in her as an advisor while Stiles chanted the ancient druidic words to bind them. The entire pack, humans included, felt the rush of energy as the bond snapped into place, pulling an emissary into the natural hierarchy of the bonds and settling her ever so slightly below Stiles and Peter in the order. 

Lydia tensed slightly as the bond formed, but otherwise didn’t wake from her slumber. Stiles thanked the mother of magic for her mercy at keeping the banshee from suffering any further torment before the charm could be created for her. 

A sense of calm washed over everyone in the pack as a feeling of completion settled within them all. For all intents and purposes, they were now a complete pack, they had an Alpha and Emissary, at least three betas, and human anchors which created a harmony with the territory and land. As the guardian of the territory, Stiles felt the change more than everyone. His territory (that for now technically only included the Nemeton itself and the warded area in the clearing) was settled in a way he hadn’t known he required and it made him feel more in tune with his magic than he ever had. 

The Nemeton was pulsing brightly within his mind and chirping with an excitement that he couldn’t quite understand. Another part of the tree's master plan had obviously fallen into place with the inclusion of Lydia as the packs emissary. The emotions and message input he was receiving from the tree was brighter, more full and complex than it had been moments before, and Stiles couldn’t help but wonder if somehow he’d bound himself more tightly with the entity. 

“-iles?”

“Stiles!” 

The Spark jolted from the semi-meditative state he hadn’t even realized he’d fallen into and stared blankly at Peter. The Alpha looked concerned but also amused while he watched awareness trickle back into Stiles. “What?” 

“Lost you for a minute there. I’m guessing it was the Nemeton?” 

“How could you tell?” Stiles was genuinely curious if Peter was also experiencing a deepening of his bond with the tree. 

“Your magic started to smell like it and your eyes went white.” Peter said with no lack of awe in his voice. 

“Oh shit,” Stiles rubbed his eyes and questioned the implications of that development. “That’s never happened before.” He shrugged, “Oh well, I’ll add it to the list.” 

Peter raised a brow and crossed his arms, Stiles couldn’t read the expression on his face nor his tone, “There’s a list?” 

“Of course there’s a list. It’s the ‘Weird shit my magic does’ list. It’s getting pretty long. I started out researching and trying to figure out the whys of it all, but all I learned was that Sparks are unpredictable and no one ever really knows what the hell is going on.” 

“That’s reassuring.” Peter looked all but reassured. 

“Isn’t it?” Stiles beamed and powered on as if Peter had been seriously reassured. “The Nemeton is doing a pretty good job of keeping me from doing anything stupid or dangerous, outside of that we’re just all along for the ride until my Spark finishes maturing.” 

Stiles watched as the desire to ask a myriad of questions passed over Peter's face. He found himself torn between finding the fact that he could read Peter’s typically stoic face unnerving and devastatingly attractive. He was so used to Peter keeping everything close to the chest that seeing the man so open to him was hard to deal with. He turned away sharply before he ended up giving himself away, completely unsure of what the man would see on his face at this moment. 

The two didn’t say much as they headed back to the Nemeton. When they arrived at the center of the clearing, the entire group was sitting around anxiously waiting. Stiles wanted to feel uncomfortable about the strange moment between himself and Peter, but he had to deal with Lydia first. As was his typical coping mechanism, Stiles pushed down all of his emotions and slowly approached the ritual circle. 

After taking a moment to double check that everything was in place, Stiles gently lowered himself in the center of the circle and gave a cursory glance around at the observers. Jaime was snuggled up into Aiden’s side and had the expression of pointed disinterest, but Stiles could literally feel the excited anticipation dripping off the boy. He looked over the twins and felt similar energy coming off of them, though neither of them bothered to keep the excitement off their faces. 

With a reassuring wink in their direction, Stiles closed his eyes and reached out a hand to touch the stump to his left. Unlike previously, Stiles didn’t have to try to connect himself with the Nemeton. As soon as he made contact he felt the pleased magic pulsing through him and at his disposal. It was as if the tree was focusing and guiding him forward with loving nudges. 

Before he started the ritual, Stiles tried his best to explain his intent with the light show for the pack. It took a bit longer than he’d anticipated, but when the tree seemed to finally understand the message he was trying to portray, the entity flickered with pleased mischief. Stiles distinctly got the impression that the Nemeton was saying, _’They want a show, we'll give them a show.’_

And with that it began. 

The Nemeton wrapped itself around Stiles and he began to chant a low murmur of ancient Cant. He felt his magic pulse through the air and begin bubbling beneath the surface of his skin. Unlike before, Stiles noticed when his eyes became lit from within and his sight became unrestricted by such trivial things as darkness or limitations of being human. He smirked over the words spoken in a dead tongue as his energy hit it’s crescendo and burst forth from his body. A chorus of amazed gasps echoed through the clearing and his body shook with barely restrained power as it started to glow softly with the light of his inner spark. 

Stiles felt a jolt rush through his body as his consciousness was separated from it. He was pulled into the air and given a birds eye view of the clearing with the presence of the Nemeton buzzing excitedly next to him. He could see everything as it happened, his body moving with little intervention from his mind as the ritual circle glowed bright with pure Spark magic on the ground. The pack sat back in awe and Stiles observed his hands reaching over to the small obsidian box that stored the true asphodel. 

The plant glowed bright with the otherworldly light of the underworld and the realms beyond men. From the moment that Stiles cracked the lid of the box, that light flooded the area around the plant and drew sharp contrast against the light of his magic. The two differing magics appeared to twirl and prod at each other in the air becoming acquainted while Stiles’ magic prodded it in askance of its protection. 

The dim glow of the asphodel reeled back from the prodding and returned to the plant it’d been housed in. A clear rejection of the favor it’d been asked. Stiles’ spark continued to coax and prod and dance in the air in attempts to coax it out. After some time, the ethereal glow of the true asphodel became coaxed from the plant and separated gently with its influence until it floated freely in the air, now unrestrained. 

Once free it crackled loudly in the air and caused many of the onlookers to jump in surprise as the clearing was temporarily shrouded in the light and energy of the lands beyond death. The death magic bounced violently against the sides of the ritual circle as if it was trying to escape while his own bright Spark made chase. Stiles knew that this was part of the show, that from the moment the other magic had left it’s vessel in the true asphodel it had become under his influence, but the onlookers had no way of knowing that there was no danger from the foreign magic as it danced and alluded his own. 

The two magics dodged and twirled with increasing speed as they grew in size and painted ancient symbols and intricate designs into the air. As they became more merged, the designs left in the air by their light became more detailed until the moment that the two magics became fully one and tumbled like a waterfall into the necklace at the center of the circle. 

For a moment the entire clearing was dark and silent. The onlookers started to shift, assuming that the ritual was finished. Stiles felt the energy of the Nemeton next to him surge with excitement for a split second before the stump of the Nemeton exploded into a bright and colorful light. 

Like an emerging mushroom cloud of bright light and natural magic, a large weeping willow arose from the stump and grew in size until it was easily double the size as the tree that once stood in this exact spot. The magical illusion hung in the air for a single moment, bright and shining and dripping with warmth like a promise for the future. It hung glittering in the air for about three seconds before it shattered and the debris of sprinkling light drifted down and covered the entire clearing like a layer of snow. 

Stiles' last thought as his consciousness returned to his body and he watched the traces of magic absorb into everything within the wards was that he was pretty sure he hadn’t been responsible for that last bit at the end. The Nemeton rumbled within him in a way that Stiles couldn’t help but interpret as amused laughter and Stiles fell unconscious as he considered that maybe the all knowing, unbelievably powerful tree was getting a little too sentient for comfort. Especially with that terrible sense of humor.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm exhausted and couldn't think of anything witty to say. 
> 
> Hope you liked the chapter :p


	4. Gathered Resources

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stiles wakes and finds many changes in the camp.

Stiles woke in the dark with a warm body pressed tightly against his back. It felt too small to be Peter, so instead of panicking he hummed contentedly and pressed into the warmth. He was met with an unfamiliar type of resistance and immediately identified what the extra padding was from. With a jolt he turned and his eyes met green and a sharp intelligence. He couldn’t help but smile in relief. “Hello my goddess. What I wouldn’t have given to wake up like this a couple years ago.” 

“But, alas,” She started, trying to keep her tone and expression tight while she bit back an amused grin. 

“But, alas,” Stiles interrupted in his familiar banter with the banshee, “I find myself a-dick-tted to other proclivities.”

“Foolish.” Lydia snarked, still fighting to keep her tone stern and the smile from her lips while her eyes glinted with amusement.

“As all men are when faced with perfection, my lady.” Stiles sat upright to give the banshee a little bow before they both broke into a fit of laughter. Stiles then reached out and placed a hand on her cheek, immediately losing all levity and replacing it with seriousness. “How are you feeling?” 

“Less like I’m trapped in a hellish nightmare of death and chaos and more like a bad movie.” She flipped her hair over her shoulder in a show that she was unbothered. Stiles didn’t buy it and she knew it, but he gave it to her anyway. “The charm is pulling the memories away. I can still feel them, and I remember that it happened, but it’s foggy. There’s...distance I guess.” 

Stiles smiled and pulled her into a tight hug. They simply sat for a moment holding each other and basking in the comfort of their presence before Lydia broke it, put on her all business mask, and rounded on him in a classic Lydia fashion. 

“And what about you? How are you feeling? You’ve been asleep for an entire day after all.” 

“A whole day?” Stiles grumbled, he knew the spell would take a lot out of him, especially with him playing up the optics of the thing like he had. But he didn’t expect to have lost an entire day of work. “Shit, I was supposed to go out with Peter today.”

“Speaking of Peter.” Lydia raised an eyebrow at him and Stiles visibly flinched. 

“How mad are you?” Stiles stayed pulled back from her, ready and willing to be berated for literally every decision he’s made since the last time he’d seen her. If he slept all day, Stiles had no doubt that Lydia had spent the entire time she’d been awake interrogating everyone on their situation. From the end of the battle with Theo until breaking Peter out of Eichen and bonding her to him, Stiles was sure that she would have a laundry list of complaints about the choices he’d made. 

Instead she searched his face for a couple of seconds before tackling him once more in a tight hug. When she spoke he could hear the barely restrained tears, and her words had them both breaking into gentle sobs. 

“How could I be mad at you, idiot, you’ve saved us all.”

* * *

Emerging from his tent and into the clearing was like being in a completely different place. Center camp and several tents had been moved to accommodate the area that Stiles assumed was being sectioned off for the pack house. All eight of the plastic storage sheds were constructed in different areas that he assumed had some kind of order to them, though he didn’t know what it was yet. The most noticeable change was that one of the larger sheds was set up to the right of the new fire with four large solar panels on top. 

Stiles approached the light humming and brightly lit shed in awe, and when he cracked open the doors, he was met with a kitchen that was fully equipped with three fridges, two ovens, more than enough counter space, and a two wash bin setup for dishes. Right next to the door a water cooler hummed quietly with extra large blue plastic jugs of water to its side. 

He popped open one of the fridges and was surprised to find a stack of premade sandwiches and some kind of pasta salad in a large bowl. Stiles wasted no time helping himself to a large portion and eating it standing up in the kitchen like a hooligan. It was a quick job to clean up after himself and Stiles headed to the next shed over, noticing the wires coming from the solar panels into it as well. 

The door cracked open and Stiles almost gasped at the sight. Danny was sitting at a large L-shaped computer desk that had the two laptops connected and displaying different maps of the clearing and what looked like complex plans for the solar grid. There were multiple external hard drives strewn about and seemed to be in the process of being labeled. Along the whole opposite wall was a series of bookcases that were in the process of being filled. All the boxes and papers from his own tent were laid out on the floor waiting to be organized. 

The map of the county was posted on a large cork board that had been mounted on the far side wall over top the window, and underneath there was a small table with assorted office supplies. This was clearly the place where research and planning would be done and Stiles was in awe of it. Danny shot him a proud smile. “You missed a lot.” 

“I see that. Holy shit, Danny.” Stiles couldn’t form more words than that right now and Danny seemed to understand. 

“We only have this room and the kitchen wired up for now. All the other buildings are being used for storage currently, no one in the pack felt right about having a proper house until more of us had the option.”

“This is so awesome.” Was all Stiles managed to get out before slumping himself into one of the four available seats in the room. The shed was a little cramped with everything they’d managed to stuff inside, but it was more so in a cozy way than feeling claustrophobic. More than enough room to make into a home considering the settlement would have communal kitchens and bathrooms for the most part. “So much progress made in a day.”

“It helps to have hurricane Lydia back.” Danny said fondly, “Peter is good at getting things done, don’t get me wrong, but with the two of them teamed up this place is running like a well oiled machine.” 

“They’re already teamed up?” Stiles couldn’t help but disbelieve. Sure when they’d talked, Lydia said she was willing to give sane Peter a chance, but she’d given no indication that they’d worked together. 

“Teamed up may be overstating it.” Danny laughed and swiveled in his seat in contemplation. “Watching them makes me daydream about a Prince and a King’s advisor. He’s a little indignant and a little terrified of her. She kind of hates him but is doing everything in her power to help him succeed. It’s hilarious and interesting. But, yeah, they’re getting along well enough, considering.” 

“That seems more realistic.” Stiles nodded while humming from his seat, “Where is everyone else?” 

Stiles had noticed that the clearing was pretty quiet since he’d woken up. He hadn’t seen any of the wolves and while he’d noticed Melissa and Mrs. Loretta over by the garden, and Jaime off in the Northeastern corner of the clearing constructing something, Stiles hadn’t seen anyone else. 

“The wolves are out raiding for food. Now that we have adequate storage for food and could dedicate all of the generators to setting up a pantry at the Hale House, they are on a mission to get as much meat frozen and under our control as possible.” Danny shrugged as if he was being nonchalant but his grin was wry, “Werewolves, man.” 

The two laughed and discussed the things that Stiles had missed while he was sleeping. Apparently, Lydia had taken over city planning and was steadily grid-mapping the clearing to plot out where everything was to be located. She’d first marked the places where the roads would go, then set up what would be referred to as the ‘RV Park’, and then proceeded to map out the places where the animal farms and permanent housing would be placed. 

“I could tell Peter was irritated at being overruled, but you know how Lydia is.” Danny chuckled. 

“She’s right. Almost always, even if you hate her for it. Oh man, I would have paid to see Peter realize that.” Stiles beamed while he settled more comfortably into the chair. There was something about sitting in a comfortable chair in a room with actual electricity that allowed him to relax in ways he couldn’t before. That comfort allowed him to goof off with Danny while they chatted about the future of the clearing. 

While they talked, Stiles realized little things like the fact that with all the housing having to be close together for the plumbing and electric, that no one would have any privacy. Wolf hearing was one thing when everyone had their own houses to go to at the end of the night, but with everyone living so close together, the lack of privacy would end up grating on people. 

He mentioned wanting to look into soundproofing wards and Danny made note of it in a journal exactly like the one Peter had the night before. Stiles raised an eyebrow at the Hawaiian boy and he blushed in reply. “I liked his way of keeping up with things.” 

Stiles promptly ignored the flare of jealousy and moved on by telling himself that he was jealous that people were turning to Peter instead of himself. He knew it wasn’t true, that he was more than relieved for the help, but the alternative was much harder to digest. So he moved on.

* * *

The wolves returned a few hours later after having packed all the food they’d gathered into the freezers at the Hale house. Stiles had been assisting Jaime with getting the chickens into their coops when they’d rounded on him with excessive scent marking, declarations of how cool the ritual had been, and aggressive mother henning about over using his magic. 

They all gathered at the campfire to have the now routine nightly briefing sessions about progress on the camp. Lydia slid into her new position of power with incredible ease, and Stiles found himself grinning madly as she effortlessly led the meeting. All the while Peter wrote in his journal and kept notes, occasionally chiming in with a comment but otherwise content to let the pack discuss everything amongst themselves. 

Everyone was excitedly anticipating the ritual and the wolves especially were humming with anticipation for the full moon. They’d sweep the nearby area and have their first moon run as a pack. The humans were excited as well, but there was an obvious nervousness to those who’d never spent a full moon with werewolves. 

Stiles could understand the anxiousness, no matter how many times they were told that there was nothing to worry about and that the wolves were giant puppies when they were stable and with their pack, there was no way to know for sure until they saw it for themselves. Especially the twins, who’d seen a not only feral wolf but a feral _zombie_ werewolf as their introduction to the species. 

While Leah was obviously anxious, Ryan seemed interested more than anything. Stiles noticed that the man had intentionally sat himself next to Peter and would occasionally lean over and ask whispered questions. Stiles wasn’t sure what they were talking about, but at times Peter seemed impressed and intrigued by the boy. Jaime was, as usual, plastered to Aiden's side, but Stiles noticed the looks that the teenager was shooting Lydia when he thought that no one was looking. 

Stiles wondered if it was because Lyds was also a redhead, as if somehow the boy was imprinting on her as a mother figure or if he was forming a massive crush. The longing looks sent her way could be interpreted either way. Stiles made a mental note to keep an eye out to see where that was heading. 

As the chatter seemed to die down, Mrs. Loretta chimed in with a ‘casual’ statement that was pointed directly at the Alpha. The garden could be ready for planting in no longer than two hours if everyone was willing to pitch in tomorrow morning. Amusement rolled off the entire group as the elder woman passively strong armed everyone into spending the early morning helping her with her project. 

To everyone's surprise, Jaime cut in excitedly about the completed chicken coops and his optimism for having a rabbit enclosure ready tomorrow. The boy had already gotten the two large areas for the chickens and the rabbits fenced off with posts and chicken wire fencing and would only have to finish building the three rabbit hutches they’d acquired on the raid. Lydia pointedly praised the boy for his progress and he beamed, showing more personality than Stiles had seen from him since he’d been rescued. He still couldn’t read the vibes coming off the boy, but whatever was being scented by the wolves was clearly amusing to them. 

Either way, Stiles was happy to see the boy smile and even Aiden let slip a soft smile at the boy that showed that their attachment seemed to go both ways. Whether their relationship was fatherly or brotherly, Stiles wasn’t sure, but he figured that they were good for each other regardless and was glad they each had someone to lean on. 

Peter left the group without a word and returned minutes later with a large whiteboard calendar. The group then spent the next twenty minutes working out a rotation for night watches, meal preparation, and for morning water collection and then Peter promptly hung the board up in the kitchen area. The group agreed that at least for now, nightly pow wows like this would be the norm, and as people settled into their new routines the number of meetings would decrease. 

After the meeting was finished, the differing groups split off to make their plans for their projects tomorrow while Peter pulled Stiles into the computer shed that was now being referred to as the ‘War Room.’ Once the two of them were closed inside, Peter pulled Stiles over to one of the chairs along the wall and lowered himself into the one next to it. 

“I scented another wolf not far from the house this afternoon.” Peter growled out. 

“Shit.” Stiles grumbled, “Omega, you think?” 

Peter hummed in thought, “I don’t think so. It smelled vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on it. The babywolves didn’t recognize it at all and Aiden wasn’t with us at the time.” 

“We track it tomorrow, first thing in the morning. We can’t have unknowns lurking on the full moon.” Stiles was surprised by the cold resolve in his voice at the perceived threat. He felt the Nemeton hum in approval at his instincts to protect alongside his bond with Peter. Apparently the three of them were in agreement that this needed to be handled promptly. A thought struck Stiles and he shot up in his chair, “Any chance it was Deucalion?” 

“No, it wasn’t an Alpha. But if he’s still out there, we can likely expect him to pop up at some point.” Peter suppressed a shutter at having to deal with the demon wolf on top of an apocalypse. 

“Could be Issac, maybe? But I doubt that he and Argent made it here from Montreal that quickly. But, no, Issac would just come to the house and wait for us to let him into the clearing.” Stiles wracked his brain for anyone else that Peter would recognize the smell of that also knew they were out here somewhere. Peter tensed at the mention of Chris, but didn’t comment. Stiles hoped it was because the Alpha saw the value of having the hunter in their group and not that he was waiting to have the Argent fight another time. 

“Whoever it is, you and I will find them tomorrow and handle it.” Peter resolved before pausing in thought, “Are you going to be okay to use magic? You have the tree ritual tomorrow, after all.” 

“Nah, it’ll be fine.” Stiles stretched in his chair and turned fully to the Alpha. “Offensive magic doesn’t use much energy. It’s when you’re doing anything protective that it’s draining. There’s probably some kind of lesson there about the cost of doing the right thing, but honestly I’m still pretty tired so I don’t know if I’m up for it.” 

Peter and Stiles snarked at each other for a little longer before heading back to their tent to sleep. They would get up early the next morning and head out before breakfast to investigate the potential threat. On their way back, Peter informed Lydia of the plan and the banshee nodded sharply and promptly made note in the book she had laying atop her clipboard.

As they got into their pajamas, the two chatted casually about how well Lydia seemed to be adjusting. Stiles was concerned that she was suppressing her trauma, but Peter pointed out that every one of them was in some ways and there was nothing to be concerned about for now. Stiles didn’t appreciate the knowing look that followed and huffed while letting the conversation drop. 

Stiles fell asleep with Peter wrapped possessively around him and couldn’t even muster the will to pretend to be mad about it. Sane Peter was pressing all of his buttons and their deepening bond and the attached emotional feedback of rightness, comfort, and protection were only feeding into the growing attachment to him. His last drifting thoughts before he’d fully sank into his dreams were if Peter kept being such a good Alpha, would it really be so bad to _give in_?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really suck at keeping up with a schedule for this.   
> There is literally no excuse for it, the chapters are already written :/   
> Sorry and thanks for reading


	5. All In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peter and Stiles go on a hunt.

Stiles grumbled as he very narrowly avoided being tripped by a tree root. He and Peter had been tracking through the preserve for over an hour now and still hadn’t found the wolf. They’d been all over the area around the Hale house the night before, and Peter noted that from the pattern it appeared as though they were scouting or searching for something. He made a point to note that there was no aggression in the scent, and while that wasn’t enough to completely relax, they were starting to believe that whoever this person was, they didn’t mean any harm. 

“Maybe they’re looking for a pack?” Stiles hoped as they’d finally followed the trail back to the main road. There Peter had scented two additional humans but the trail ended there, likely because they’d gotten into a vehicle. Stiles let his gaze drift over the three zombie corpses and the assorted blood spatter left behind and tried to stifle a wince. 

Hopefully it’d been the wolf that was bleeding out all over the ground, lest the guilt of another life lost would weigh on his own conscience for not being able to help. He didn’t even question why he felt that death would have been on his shoulders. 

“I hope so.” Peter hummed, also looking over the aftermath of the struggle. Luckily, the Alpha hadn’t been as distracted as Stiles and noticed the zombie ambush closing in on them before it was too late. He moved with a speed that Stiles couldn’t track as he ran into the approaching group.

In a matter of seconds, four more zombie corpses joined the three on the ground. Stiles hadn’t even gotten an opportunity to move from his spot examining the scene of the mysterious wolf’s fight before Peter was casually wiping viscera off his claws with a small handkerchief and a cocky grin.

As they headed back toward the Hale house, Stiles and Peter had a better understanding as to why their werewolf stalker had fled the woods with their humans in tow. More than a few small hordes were forming just outside of and around the outskirts of the preserve and proving that Beacon Hills was getting exponentially more dangerous by the day. They both absently wondered how much longer they’d have before leaving the clearing at any capacity would be a danger. 

Peter promised to scale up patrols of their immediate area and keep things as safe and managed as they could until they were inevitably overrun by the dead. The two walked back all the while discussing how they’d need to increase the speed at which they’d been raiding and gathering supplies so that they could secure as much as possible before going into the city became too risky. 

Now they knew that the wolf was no longer in the preserve, the two needed to head into the city proper. As they walked, the two discussed places they needed to raid and the logistics of storing all the food and supplies they would attain. 

“We should consider moving RV’s as close to the house as we can get. That way when the road is ready they’ll be nearby.”

“I’ll discuss it with the raid groups, maybe use them to store items from raids.”

Peter came to the conclusion that splitting up the pack for raids would be their best move going forward. While the size of the zombie hordes were increasing, they still hadn’t seen many groups larger than ten, and decided that two wolves would be able to handle it for the time being. Meaning, they’d start sending the wolves out on raids to multiple locations to secure supplies starting tomorrow. Things would likely start getting hectic after the ritual, but Stiles had no doubt that Peter was working hard to keep everything running smoothly. He abjectly refused to accept how comforting the thought was. 

The two filed into the most convenient vehicle and made their way into Beacon Hills proper to try to track the were and it’s humans. They headed first toward the location where Liam thought he’d heard a heartbeat and tracked around the city from there. Stiles twitched with anxiety that they’d be too late, that the were was probably dying, and that this day would likely end with another harrowing battle against a zombie werewolf.

Even Peter seemed nervous about what they were going to find when they caught up with the other survivors. The Alpha even opted to take a weapon along, while the wolves weren’t nearly as at risk as the humans, he’d explained that the stench of wrongness on the zombies makes the wolves want to instinctually keep their distance and that outside of one on one, fighting zombies with claws was dangerous and impractical.They smelled like rot and death and those scents were particularly offensive to their enhanced senses and could cause disorientation. 

The two made it about halfway to their destination before they ran into another small horde. They found a small grouping of six zombies all swarming around a broken down SUV that had the radio still blasting. The noise had clearly lured them in and would need to be shut down, lest they ended up with a full horde on a major roadway. 

Not about to let Peter take all the zombie killing glory today, Stiles jumped out of the car before it was at a complete stop and bolted straight toward the creatures. Peter scrambled to get the car into park and dashed out behind him. The wolf was growling in irritation behind Stiles while he swung in another brutal arc that caved the skull of the creature in. Peter went to work on covering Stiles’ flank and making quick work of the two zombies that were attacking from that side. Stiles grinned and was sure that he was going to get a lecture for his recklessness later.

In a small group like this, the zombies were barely an issue for the two. While his magic had turned out to be fairly useless against the creatures when used directly on them (Stiles’ learned the hard way that a flaming or electrified zombie is arguably much more of a danger to his livelihood than a regular one and promptly took those attacks out of his rotation.) he could push them back or freeze them in place temporarily if the situation called for it. 

Instead, Stiles used his magic to buff his own reflexes and strength and to fortify the warding on his bat. This made him as effective against the zombies as any of the wolves were, with his only weakness being that it would only take one bite for Stiles to become infected. Some kind of body armor was on his list of ideas, but he hadn’t found the time to start that particular side project and he still couldn’t bring himself to go through all of the supplies they’d acquired from the police station.

It was quick work to drag the corpses off the road into a ditch and proceed to move the vehicle out of the road way. When the two approached their car to continue into the town, Peter held open the passenger door for him with a pleased smirk. Stiles slid in with a laugh. 

“What a gentleman, holding doors for me on our murder date.” 

Peter pinned Stiles with an intensity he hadn’t been expecting, “Date, you say?” 

Stiles flushed from head to toe and sputtered before finally managing to squawk out a response, “I wouldn’t date you!” 

Peter’s expression turned predatory in an instant. Stiles, feeling himself pressed against the opened car and suddenly felt flashes of memory from a parking garage and a feral Alpha werewolf. “Do you know what I just heard?” The bastard’s smirk proved that he was doing it on purpose.

“Peter I will run you over with this fucking car.” The Alpha smirked in crazy but still backed out of Stiles’ space and rounded the vehicle and took the driver's seat. Stiles folded into the passenger side with a heart pounding too hard to ignore.

* * *

“I’m going to need to write Joss Whedon an apology letter for all the shit I gave Buffy. Obviously it _is_ realistic for that much terrible stuff to go down at the same high school.” Stiles huffed as Peter examined the SUV parked in the school parking lot. He was sure that the blood splattered on the side belonged to the same wolf that was near the Hale house and the trail led directly through the front doors.

The second, more glaring hint that someone was alive in the school was the overwhelming number of zombie corpses littered across the entire area, many showing signs of werewolf trauma, even more missing heads completely. Peter signaled for Stiles to shut up, which, fair, they didn’t want to give whoever a chance to prepare for their approach. The two creeped closer to the school until Peter stopped abruptly and tilted his head to listen. 

After a moment of silence, Peter pulled Stiles away from the school and out of what he assumed was hearing distance before he spoke. “Six steady heartbeats and one smaller one.” Peter hummed, “Someone in there is pregnant, most likely, and two of them are arguing in what sounds like Russian.” 

“Why would there be Russians in Beacon Hills?” Stiles grumbled with confusion all over his features, “Did you hear anything else?” 

“Not really, just the arguing and some rasped breathing. Probably the injured were.” Peter moved around the area a bit more while obviously trying to pick up scents. “I only smell the one wolf around here, it’s most likely there is only the one trying to protect the humans.” 

“So we have one injured wolf, a pregnant woman, and a bunch of humans inside?” Stiles questioned rhetorically while he scanned the area for threats. Peter seemed distracted by his wolfy instincts and he didn’t want the two to end up ambushed again. 

“Yes.” Peter scrunched his eyebrows in thought but didn’t say more. 

“Should we just...walk in?” Stiles questioned hesitantly, “My magic works just fine on humans, so if they’re a threat…” He trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought. He could eviscerate such a small group of humans in seconds if he needed to, and all evidence pointed to the wolf in the group being far too injured to stop him. Not that Stiles had any doubt that he and Peter could handle them if they tried. “I mean, technically we _do_ come in peace.” 

Peter thought it over for a moment, clearly weighing the pros and cons of the situation before he finally answered. “Yeah, fuck it. Let’s just walk in.” 

Of course, the two of them weren’t reckless as they walked the abandoned hallways of the school and toward the gymnasium. Peter led the way, citing that he could take a bullet without much issue if the humans were particularly trigger happy, while Stiles covered his back and kept his spark humming in anticipation below the surface. 

They moved slowly and stayed alert as they closed in on the area where the others were hiding. Peter jolted as they approached and when Stiles lifted a brow in question, the Alpha mouthed that the werewolf had noticed them. Stiles paused for a moment and thought about how to proceed. If the wolf knew they were out here, then there was no reason to try being subtle, right?

Deciding that Peter Hale was not the ambassador that their settlement needed, Stiles pushed ahead and marched right up to the gym doors before knocking twice. Peter looked at him like he’d gone insane but Stiles just shrugged and pushed the doors open without ceremony. “Hello, we come in peace, fellow survivo-” 

Stiles gaped and tried to wrap his mind around what he was seeing. Because it couldn’t be possible that a gravely injured, profusely bleeding, and completely wolfed out Jackson Whittemore was standing protectively over coach Finstock, a small child, a pregnant woman, and two gorgeous twenty somethings who looked fully amused by his chosen entrance. He dropped his outstretched hands and frowned. “Why aren't you in London, Jackass?” 

“-linski?” Jackson muttered through injury induced delirium while swaying on his feet. Poor guy was about to topple over, but was still trying his best to protect his humans. Which was so decidedly unlike Jackson that Stiles continued to gape in lieu of response. He felt Peter press in closer to his back while the awkward standoff between the two groups stretched on longer due to collective shock. 

“Peacock Hale and Bilinski, as I live and breathe!” Coach Finstock jumped up from his defensive position on the ground and rounded Jackson to approach them with a reassuring pat on Jackson’s back. The light pat and relaxed change in atmosphere was apparently all Jackson needed to collapse from his injuries, which the two twenty somethings immediately started tending to while grumbling quietly to each other. The pregnant woman continued to cower and hold the child while watching them with scared and calculating eyes.

“Bobby.” Peter said flatly while Stiles squealed the nickname and broke into shocked laughter. His hysteria seemed to reassure the strangers that they did, in fact, come in peace and he noticed the pregnant woman relax her hold on the child in relief. Peter’s eyes darted warningly to Stiles who only laughed harder in response. Peter huffed. “I told you not to call me that.” 

“You love it.” He chuckled and grinned wryly while patting him on the shoulder, “Ya just like the extra attention you get from complaining about it. Like a peacock.” 

Peter growled in a childish manner that Stiles had never seen from him before. Almost like they were friends? He shuddered at the visuals. “You’re so lucky Tals loved you.” 

Coach continued chuckling joyfully, “Gotta love ol’ Bobby. Red eyes got on board, but you, Peacock, couldn’t abide my getting all the attention, eh?” 

Peter geared up for some kind of petulant response, but Stiles beat him to the punch. “Did you just say red eyes?” The implications were swirling madly through his head and Stiles couldn’t do anything but stare pathetically at his coach and wonder if his perceived obliviousness to the frankly, obvious, supernatural powers on the lacrosse team had been a ploy. 

“Keep up Bilinski,” The man flashed him an amused and smug look, “Guess Peacock is red eyes now, huh? Makes sense it’s you two Whittemore’s been hunting for. I wasn’t sure who was in charge after McCall... ” The man trailed off and gave Stiles a sympathetic look. He apparently did know what had been going on after all. Stiles wasn’t sure how he felt about that information, but filed it away for later.

Stiles chose to ignore the life altering information that Coach had known about the supernatural all along and bent down to look over Jackson. He’d been bitten to shit, swarmed by the dead, and was healing painfully slowly but he would survive. He traced the wounds with his fingers gently, noting how much more slowly he was healing, significantly more slowly than they should be which made Stiles squirm in discomfort at the implication. He pet the pretty boy on the head and mumbled, “You an omega now Jax?” 

“He has always been omega.” The Russian woman spat angrily from her place near Jacksons legs. The man at her side nodded along, looking somehow irritated and completely nonchalant about Jackson. The woman painted careful strokes of her fingers along the patches of uninjured skin between bites on Jackson's side and Stiles felt an urge to look away from the gentle care. Instead, Stiles frowned and looked down at his old rival. These two strangers seemed really upset on his behalf and that didn’t spell good things for Jackson's life after the Hale pack. His stomach rumbled with anxious discomfort.

“Not anymore.” He whispered. A part of him always knew that Jackson hadn’t had a good time of it since being turned, but he’d hoped that the teen had found some semblance of happiness across the pond. The fact that he hadn’t hurt more than Stiles would have expected. Apparently the apocalypse was making him soft. He looked back up at the two in silent promise and the woman studied him for a long moment before nodding ascent. 

“Not anymore.” She affirmed, seemingly pleased. The man at her side made a grumbling sound of agreement and reached into a comically oversized and overstuffed duffle bag to pull out a cigarette and pop it into his mouth. He held Stiles gaze and pushed a hand through his bleached grey hair and then winked. 

“Is that bag full of nothing but cigarettes?” Stiles questioned with an amused lilt at the sheer size of the bag and amount of cigarette packs within. The Russian man leveled him with a look so serious Stiles almost shot back. 

“Priorities.” He stated simply in his thick accent. The brand was foreign, showing cyrillic lettering across the packaging and was otherwise unremarkable. Stiles held his gaze, speechless at the implication of this man leaving his country during an apocalypse with this as his cargo. Neither of them moved or said anything until the man pulled his fingers to the unlit tip of the cigarette and snapped, causing the cigarette to light with another playful wink. 

“Oh.” Stiles brightened at the action, hoping for any explanation for the magic reveal. The Russian just smirked and looked toward the woman next to him.

“Ilya, don’t tease him.” She admonished playfully in her thick accent while pulling her shoulder length dark hair back into a ponytail and rounding on Stiles with a teasing smile “He looks so confused.” 

“Is cute.” Ilya noted absently while puffing on his cigarette and looking around the gym with feigned disinterest. 

“ _Ti Durak_ , Ilya.” The woman grumbled at the man. “Apologies, Guardian, he’s moron.”

“ _Passossee mayee yaitsa,_ Yelena.” He waved dismissively at her but Stiles was distracted. 

“Guardian?” How could she possibly know his title?

“Da,” She pinned him with her icy eyes. That blue could pierce as good as any Hale Stiles had seen and he nearly recoiled. “Baby Spark, we seek refuge at your Nemeton. I’m Yelena and this is my brother Ilya. We’re _Baždarica_ of _derev'ya_ , last of our court. We were allies with the pack in London, but.” 

She paused and looked down at the injured Jackson for a long moment. A slew of complicated emotions played out in her expression before she looked back at Stiles. Her eyes were glowing a bright and hypnotizing green color and looked to be misted with tears. Ilya finished her thought. 

“But they’re assholes.” He waved a hand as if that ended the thought. In a way, Stiles supposed that it did. The pack in London had apparently done _something_ to Jackson and these two got him out of there and brought him home. Danny was going to be so happy, and Stiles wanted to agree immediately, but he had follow up questions first. 

“Sorry, what is baz…?” Stiles trailed off, completely trying to give up on repeating the words the woman had spoken. She chuckled and shook her head in amusement. 

“Baždarica.” She repeated slowly and looked at Stiles expectantly. She clearly wanted him to try to pronounce the word again. And he had a feeling it was only because she knew he’d be terrible at it. He tried anyway, and butchered it anyway, and the two Russians laughed at him in earnest. Stiles frowned but noticed that the pregnant woman and child were chuckling along as well and supposed that the hit to his pride was probably worth it. 

“Slavic forest Fae.” Peter chimed in from where he’d been talking with Coach. Stiles grumbled that _of course_ Peter would know what this woman was talking about. Peter only smirked in response and returned to his conversation with Finstock.

“A-and what do you need to do with the Nemeton?” Stiles brought the conversation back on track and turned back toward the Fae with flushed cheeks. As much as he’d love some Fae allies, his bond with the Nemeton and it’s safety were the most important thing. If they’d harm it in any way, he’d need to take swift action, Jackson's friends or no. 

“Do?” She questioned before seeming to catch on. “No, No, Spark, we do nothing. We need to live nearby. Strong, healthy Nemeton means strong, healthy Baždarica. As chosen Guardian we defer to you as beta. This made London Alpha -- how do you say? -- Butthurt.” She and her brother chuckled and glanced over at Peter before she continued in a mock whisper with her thick accent. 

“They don’t like not being considered in charge of everything, da? Here is best because you are Guardian _and_ Alpha mate. Is good for everyone. No butthurt Alpha.” 

Stiles wheezed and Peter looked for a moment like he’d been invited as the guest of honor to an Argent family reunion. Murderous, confused, suspicious, and a little smug all at once before all expression was wiped off his face and Stiles leaned forward in confused distress and realization. It took a moment longer than he’d hoped, but Stiles tied himself together with denial and opened his mouth to protest. He immediately found that the words wouldn’t come out of his mouth and he nearly choked on his silence. 

The bond in his chest pulsed wildly with a mixture of complicated emotions flooding in from both himself and Peter. The bond with the Nemeton was oddly quiet as well, he noted quickly, only adding to his mounting panic. Stiles simply gave up on trying to talk and just stared into Peter’s eyes helplessly. He’d hoped to see incredulity on Peter’s face, or outright denial, not...Not that look of shocked realization. Oh fuck.

Stiles could barely hear his words over his own pounding heart and the intensity of Peter’s gaze locked with his, “Uh, yeah, right. Of course you are all welcome. We, uhm, we have a safe place to go so pack up your stuff and-and we’ll load everything up and head over.” 

It took another hour to get all of the new people packed up and Jackson loaded into the back of Finstock’s SUV comfortably. It was all a blur to Stiles, who was still reveling in the information that the Fae had provided and Peter’s subsequent lack of denial at the declaration. His own lack of denial.

He vaguely remembered being formally introduced to the pregnant woman, Cydney, and the kid, Skyler, who was apparently Coach’s nephew. Cydney had run into Finstock and Skyler about a week ago and they’d been barely surviving together until Jackson and the Faeries showed up three days ago. Ever since, they’d been searching for the pack and trying to keep safe in the school. 

Stiles figured that Jackson struggled with finding them so hard because of the wards. He’d be able to smell that they were nearby or had been nearby recently but no matter how hard he’d searched, there was no way he’d have been able to find them. Apparently, Jackson hadn’t gotten the message to wait at the Hale house like Issac and the wayward Hale’s had. 

Peter and Stiles had pointedly not made eye contact the entire time they assisted with packing everyone up. Stiles was silently freaking out and could tell that Peter was in a similar state from the emotional feedback in their bond. Did that mean that whatever bond the Nemeton assisted him with forming was a _mate_ bond?! Was this why he felt so at ease and calm around Peter? 

He’d almost freaked out that the bond was somehow messing with his mind, but Stiles knew that most of the thoughts he was having about Peter now weren’t far off from the one’s he’d had long before it existed. The only reason Stiles hadn’t ever tried making a move on the wolf was his insanity and the age difference, and even still it was a bit of a struggle not to at times. 

Neither of them spoke to each other until they were in their car and headed back to the clearing. The others were travelling in separate vehicles and Stiles eventually couldn’t handle the silence any longer. “Did you know?”

Peter jolted in the driver's seat and gripped the steering wheel tightly enough that the plastic seemed to creak beneath his fingers. When he spoke, it was clear that the Alpha was straining to keep himself completely under control and keep his voice calm. “I’d considered the possibility before.” 

“When?” Stiles rasped. 

“Tell me Stiles,” Peter’s voice sounded cold, and if it wasn’t for the emotional feedback from the bond, Stiles would be worried that Peter was going _full-Peter_ again. “How likely do you find it that an enraged feral Alpha would stop to have a pleasant chat with _and_ accept the rejection of an annoying teenage boy?” 

Stiles hadn’t really thought about it too deeply before. Now that Peter had mentioned it though, it was obvious that there was something electric between them back then. Peter had been intrigued and interested in Stiles from the moment that they’d met. ( _”You must be Stiles._ ”) “Oh.” Was all he managed to say as more instances of their odd interest in each other played through his mind like a clip show. 

“I never hurt you, not once. Even when it would have been easier to do so.” Peter continued, almost as if he was realizing this information himself. Stiles made a humming sound in lieu of response, still reeling with his own memories.

“I knew when it wasn’t you.” Peter whispered like the words themselves were tearing him open, “Even when it had everyone else fooled.” 

That truth rang between them and Stiles managed to ignore the Nogitsune reminder in favor of continuing to sort through his own thoughts. His body still tensed up for a second before relaxing back into his seat.

“I never forgot you.” Peter whispered a final realization before a long stretch of silence. They turned onto the road to the Hale house and pulled into one of the available parking spots without moving. Then Peter threw the car into park, the sound of the gear shift cracking through their silence like an alarm. He turned toward Stiles and studied his face. 

Stiles turned to face Peter, confusion, disbelief, and shock warring in his expression. Their eyes stayed pinned on each other while Peter hesitantly lifted a hand to his cheek as if expecting to be turned away. The tension in Stiles’ face relaxed at the touch. Stiles had also expected to turn Peter away but instead he pressed his cheek into Peter’s palm in affirmation. It felt right and denying it was more stress than it was worth. He had enough to worry about without adding to his problems unnecessarily.

“I couldn’t just lock you up and leave you there.” Stiles spoke softly without his own consent. “I had to go and check on you. Hoped you’d get better. There was--I had no reason to do that.” 

Peter didn’t respond, choosing to search his face for whatever answers he needed. Stiles let him, still overwhelmed with his own realizations and how they recolored their entire history with one another and cast their every interaction in a different light. He could see it clear as day, how in another life the two of them could have fallen immediately into one another. Their snark and banter carrying them off into the sunset. 

Peter, having found whatever he was searching for in Stiles’ face, leaned slowly over the center console of the car as if waiting to be told to stop. Stiles couldn’t find the words to stop him and instinctually leaned in as well. Upon noticing the movement, Peter’s eyes flashed bright red and he rumbled out a “mine” that was more growling than language before their lips met. 

And of course, their kiss was perfect; It was fireworks, sappy love songs, and repressed desire all coming together to settle into an overwhelming feeling of _rightness_ that washed over them both. 

Peter pulled away a second later, just in time for the pack to breach the treeline and move in to investigate the noise. They must have heard multiple cars pulling in. Stiles simply held eye contact with Peter for a moment before giving up on trying to suppress himself and giving the Alpha a soft smile. “We’ll talk later?” 

“Yes.” Peter growled out and then leaned back in his own seat to take a few deep breaths and exit the car. They had new people to integrate, an injured wolf to tend to, a ritual to prepare, and a full moon celebration to plan. As Alpha mates, apparently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Translations:  
>  _"Ti Durak_ , Ilya.” - You're a moron, Ilya.  
>  _"Passossee mayee yaitsa,_ Yelena.” - Suck my balls, Yelena.
> 
> THEY KISSED!!  
> FINALLY!
> 
> Oh boy, that Nemeton is a schemer.
> 
> One short chapter left and then a little info chapter with links to my notes and some maps and character bios and stuff.


	6. Complete

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A kind of epilogue thing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry I forgot to post this over the weekend!   
> I think a part of me was holding off because this is the closest to smut I've ever written and it made me SUPER nervous.

Upon returning to the clearing, Stiles and Peter kept their distance from one another. Stiles needed some time to accept their situation and feelings, and it seemed that Peter was feeling the same. Luckly, there was plenty to keep them distracted, as there was a lot of work that needed to be done. 

Peter left to break the wolves into different raiding groups to head into the city and secure more supplies. The window for a smaller raiding party being able to survive in the city was slowly closing, and they needed to get as much as they could while they could. Their own adventure that afternoon had given purchase the thought, and the confirmation from the other survivors solidified it. 

Stiles and the humans helped with integrating the new people into their group and getting everything that was being raided organized. Jackson was carted off to Melissa’s tent to recover with Danny and the Fae refusing to leave his side until he woke again. Lydia was less emotional than the others, and assisted Stiles with getting tents set up for the new arrivals after confirming with Melissa that Jackson was definitely getting better.

Eina and Mrs. Loretta took over planning for the full moon celebration and the feast for the evening, while the twins, Parrish, and Jaime were back at the Hale House setting up shelving and trying to get their supplies organized as more and more piled in from the raid groups. 

The whole basement had been converted to a pantry as it was the most waterproof area they had access to. With a few tarps and a lot of wood, the basement and most of the downstairs of the house was as secure from the elements as it could be and was being used for all manner of storage. . 

For most of the afternoon and into the early evening, pairs of wolves would return to the house and drop off items for the humans to organize before heading back out into the city to get more. Food was being prioritized, but so were other small things like blankets, clothes, housewares, medicine, and comfort items being carted in as well. 

An urgency had fallen over the group since hearing the stories from the newcomers. The city was getting more dangerous by the hour and it wouldn’t be long until going outside of their area was going to become truly dangerous, even for the wolves. Knowing that they’d be able to start on clearing the road tomorrow and that process would likely take a few days meant that getting as many supplies secured right now as they could may save lives later on. 

Peter started driving the RV’s and small trailers that they’d found to the main road outside of the Hale house and arranging them down the roadway to be driven in once the road was clear. The mobile homes were being piled up with as many supplies as they could hold and lined up in no particular order. Though the living spaces in them would be small, they’d been able to find enough beds for everyone once they could be brought in and some of the amenities inside of them were more than anyone had hoped for. 

By dusk, Jackson was starting to drift in and out of consciousness and most of the groups had returned from their various tasks. As much as they’d like to continue working through the night, they’d all agreed that being outside of the wards in the dark was asking for a disaster and began working on things around the settlement that needed to be completed. 

The area for the pack house had been marked off with spray paint, as had the lines for the road that would circle the clearing and the various walkways that would eventually be put down. There were lines for plumbing and electricity would be placed. Some lots had been marked off and had the needed building equipment placed down for when the construction groups finished with their first project. The animal and livestock area had been completed by Jaime and was being looked over by the adults before the wolves would start bringing in rabbits to farm. 

Some were mumbling about building a bigger area for livestock and looking into finding some cows next, and Jamie became determined to look into what would be needed to take those next steps with Skylar trailing behind him like a shadow babbling about being his assistant. 

Stiles checked in with everyone before heading to his tent to take a nap. It had been a long and tiring day searching for the survivors and getting them settled in, and he would need all the energy he could get for the ritual later on. He made quick work of getting into his pajamas before collapsing onto the nest and squirming his way to maximum comfort. 

As he laid there drifting, Stiles felt the Nemeton poking at their bond apprehensively. At least the tree seemed to understand that it’d done wrong tricking him into a mate bond, and though Stiles wanted to be angry about the entire situation, he couldn’t manage to muster the energy and returned the affectionate prodding through his own side of the bond. 

The tree fluttered happily in his mind and wrapped itself around him in a hug. It’s energy promising happiness, fate, and a strong settlement in the future under their care. Stiles allowed himself to believe the tree and sink into the reassurance like a blanket while he considered his own feelings and the future. 

Maybe it would be a good thing to let himself love Peter. He’d been getting out of bed and living every day solely for the purpose of protecting those around him since Scott and his Dad had died. He’d felt himself slipping deeper and deeper into denial and depression as the days had gone by, constantly shutting down his emotions and keeping focused on tasks so as not to allow himself to feel the helplessness that had been creeping in. The emptiness that had invaded his mind in the quiet moments. 

Already in the days since they’d gotten Peter out of Eichen House Stiles had felt more alive, more focused, more connected to the people and the world around him than he had in the days previous. Having the Alpha around was good for him, for everyone. And Peter was nothing like the man he’d been before being admitted. 

The attraction to Peter also wasn’t new, no matter how much a part of his mind wanted to believe that it was. He always had a thing for the Hale’s, but Peter had taken up an unhealthy amount of his thoughts ever since the man came back from the dead. Between doing research together for the Alpha pack and worrying about when the man was going to betray them, Peter had been a focus of his for as long as he could remember and a part of him knew they’d always end up here. 

Soon Peter joined Stiles in the tent and pressed up behind him beneath the covers. Stiles' near-frantic thoughts finally settled as he relaxed against the Alpha's chest and their bond thrummed between them. All the tension of the day melted into a calm contentment, letting the stresses be washed away in the feedback loop of affection, awe, and love. In that moment Stiles knew he’d commit fully to this relationship, because nothing in his life had ever felt this good. 

He pressed himself even closer to Peter, accidentally rutting into a hardness he hadn’t realized was pressing at his back. Peter gave him a playful yet warning growl and a light nip at his neck that absolutely didn’t help Stiles relax again. They were in no position to do anything about that with the entire pack within ear shot, and Stiles growled out in frustration, “Fucking tease.” 

“Stiles,” Peter huffed at his neck, dotting the column with small kisses and licks, “I would mate you right this moment if I thought you’d let me.” 

“Everyone would hear,” Stiles sniped in obvious embarrassment and arousal. His comment earned a humming sound from Peter as the older man started to nibble at his ear. 

“That’s true.” Peter continued to kiss up and down his neck before rolling Stiles gently onto his back to press the kisses onto his jawline and lips. Each touch on his skin set Stiles’ skin alight with electricity, “I don’t care.”

Stiles let out a (very manly) whining sound and returned the kiss, letting himself get lost once more in the feedback loop of emotion between them. While so wrapped up in each other, Stiles could feel that their bond was incomplete. He hadn’t noticed before, but it made sense that their mate bond hadn’t fully formed considering they’d never been intimate with each other. 

He could feel it growing in intensity and lost himself to the power of it. Their kissing became more and more desperate. Peter moved until he was on top of Stiles, their movements not breaking their almost primal need to be pressed together. Stiles felt Peter’s erection pressed against his thigh and ground up into it with his own. The two groaned and broke the kiss for only a moment. Peter’s eyes flashed red with a mumbled ‘mine’ before ravaging at his neck, kissing, licking, and sucking marks into it. Stiles just held on, grinding himself up onto Peter’s thigh in response. 

All thoughts of the rest of the pack faded from his mind as his pajama pants were pushed to his knees, his shirt was removed, and Peter took their combined lengths into his hand with a wicked smirk. The Alpha gave Stiles one last searching look before he started to pump, both of them devolving into mumbled praises and cut off moans until they were both on the edge. 

“You’re mine, Stiles.” Peter managed to grunt out, less a statement and more a question than Stiles was expecting. His answer was as enthusiastic as it was difficult to articulate at the moment. 

“Yes -- Alpha, yours.” The response caused Peter’s red eyes to glow brighter for a moment before he bit down at Stiles’ neck. Stiles gasped as he felt the bond grow and solidify in his mind, tying the two more tightly as they came within seconds of one another. Peter collapsed partially on top of Stiles and licked at the wound while Stiles reveled in the completion of the mating, feeling their bond more intensely than before. Stiles drifted into exhausted sleep seconds later, feeling safe pinned beneath Peter and letting his body adjust to the changes of being mated properly. 

They woke a few hours later, got cleaned up as best as they could, and left their tent to celebrate the full moon with their pack. Stiles pointedly ignored the looks he was getting as he prepared for the ritual, knowing he wouldn’t be able to dodge questions about his and Peter’s change in relationship for long. While Peter strutted around like he’d won the lottery before he took the wolves out on a run in the preserve. _Asshole._

Stiles performed the ritual with ease and the humans watched as all of the trees were uprooted and fell to the forest floor without a sound. By the time the wolves had returned, alcohol and food were set out and music was playing. The pack feasted, drank, and danced until the early hours of the morning knowing that starting tomorrow they would have even more work to do. 

When they woke the next morning, their puppy pile had grown to include Danny, Lydia, Jackson, and the two Fae who were all a mess of tangled limbs and morning breath. Stiles sat up from his spot between Peter and Jackson and looked around sleepily, the pack bonds in his chest were strong, happy, and thrumming with excitement even in their sleep. He felt Peter squeeze his hand from his left and smiled down at the Alpha who was looking back up at him with a soft grin. 

“This is good.” Stiles whispered with reverence. 

“Yes it is,” Peter mumbled out with his gravely morning voice, “C’mere.” Stiles melted back into his spot and pressed a small kiss on Peter’s lips still sending spikes of electricity through his body at the contact. Stile's eyes sparkled with mischief and arousal. 

“We should go quality check those RV’s this morning. We can't let our pack sleep on those beds if they aren’t comfortable.” 

“Hmm, yes.” Peter growled out, “Let’s do that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's funny how I can read filth all day with a straight face, but the seconds I have to write some I turn into a giggling, blushing mess.   
> I had every intention of being a little more explicit than this, but it was just not happening. 
> 
> Anyway I hope you enjoy the conclusion to this installation of the series. Idk who I'm going to POV next, so If you have a suggestion of who you want to know more about feel free to leave a comment about it!!


	7. THE PACK! BIO's and STUFF

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some screenshots from my notebook, including pictures and bios of all the OC and pack memebers.  
> Some pics of the buildings and a link to my full notebook.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finstock calling Peter 'Peacock' is directly from the fic [ Hanging On (You're all that's left to hold on to) by vMures. ](https://archiveofourown.org/works/23619190/chapters/56682880)  
> I asked and was given permission to steal the best nickname ever. Please check out that fic, it's seriously awesome!! Also, if you're interested in checking out my notes for this series (possible hints or spoilers may be present) please check out this link to my notebook:  
> [ Void Forged Notes ](https://www.evernote.com/pub/sberrien8/voidforged#st=p)

**The Pack:**  
  
  
  
  


Pack House:  
  
Workshop/Storage Shed:  
  
Melissa’s House/Hospital:  
  
[5] Small Plastic Storage:  
  
[3] Large Plastic Storage  
  
Map of Clearing:  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **I JUST NOTICED THAT I FORGOT PARRISH IN MY PACK BIO's!!!** I'm sorry Jordan, I didn't mean to forget you! I'll make sure to add you in later.
> 
> Image Source Information:
> 
> _Leah and Ryan: http://thenewtonite.com/whats-it-like-having-a-twin/  
>  Jamie: ( https://www.pinterest.com/pin/338825571955995178/)  
> Mrs. Loretta: ( https://www.thenewpulsefm.com/2018/08/01/older-women-give-advice-to-25-yr-olds-about-regrets/)  
> Eina: (Credit: Bigstock Photos)  
> Ilya: https://www.istockphoto.com/photo/portrait-of-handsome-man-with-stylish-haircut-gm955096412-260778574  
> Yelena: https://www.istockphoto.com/photo/woman-handing-business-card-gm908401250-25024647  
> Cydney: https://www.istockphoto.com/photo/relaxed-pregnant-girl-using-tablet-browsing-internet-gm1190581115-337563069  
> Skyler: https://www.istockphoto.com/photo/preschooler-gm998518584-270096100_


End file.
